


Humanity's Strongest Daycare Centre

by MothTale



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Cute, Domestic, Established Levi/Erwin, Fluff, Gen, Gets a bit sad after chapter 7, Implied Relationships, Levi and Erwin looking after children, Parent OCs, Probable Reckless Child Endangerment, Swearing, canon references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothTale/pseuds/MothTale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever thought: Hey, there should be an AU where Erwin and Levi run a day nursery? Well, this is that AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ...And That Makes Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I consider this my atonement for the misery which was my first fanfic. Marco will, hopefully, not foreshadow his own death in this.  
> All the kids are supposed to be between about 4 & 6.

The woman on the doorstep was young, very freckled, and rather panicked looking. Her hair had evidently been brushed recently into a smooth silkiness which did not come naturally and was now rebelling, escaping in frazzled wisps around her face. She was dressed smartly, in a freshly ironed blouse and relatively crease free skirt. She was carrying a small boy, a little less freckled than she but still with enough resemblance for a casual observer to make the family connection between them. The boy sat placidly in her arms, peering at the man who had answered the door with a half-curious, half-serene sort of expression. The woman opened her mouth, drew in a short breath and shifted from one foot to the other.  
“This is going to be really, really short notice but I saw the sign outside and wondered could you possibly, if it’s not too much trouble, watch my son for a few hours?” She paused, sucked on her lower lip, and then, seemingly anticipating a negative reply, she resumed. “He was supposed to go to his aunt’s for the day. But she’s sick - couldn’t even get out of bed to phone me to let me know - and I don’t know anyone else who could…I tried a nursery a few streets away, but they said they couldn’t take him unless he was enrolled there. Please. He won’t be any trouble. Honestly. I know all parents probably say that, but he’s a really good boy, never fusses or anything. It’s just for a few hours, and I can pay you.”  
“Its fine,” Levi said, managing to get a word in amidst her frantic pleas. It came out terse, and the woman looked momentarily wary. But necessity urged her. She set the boy down.  
“Ok, Marco. Be good, Mummy’ll be back in a couple of hours. Love you.” She bent down, kissed him, stood up again, swiped a kinked lock of hair out of her face. “He hasn’t got any allergies. He didn’t have much for breakfast, I was in a hurry,” she bit her lip and looked down at the ground, “and, well, if you could give him something for lunch I’d be really, really grateful.”  
Levi nodded, unsmiling. The worried look he’d glimpsed before flitted across her face, but then she glanced at her watch. “Oh! I’ll be back before five! Thank you so much, really,” she said, in the most earnest of tones, to Levi. She crouched down again, and smiled at the child. “Bye, bye sweetheart.” She patted the little’s boy’s hair.  
“Bye bye Mummy,” the youngster replied, in a quiet yet clear voice, and he waved at the woman until she had disappeared out of sight.

Levi shut the door and looked down at the small creature which stared back at him. Levi looked at the small pile of tiny shoes which stood by the door. That’d make it an even dozen now. As he helped Marco take off his shoes, in walked Erwin. Under each arm he carried a child, his arms wrapped around their middles. They were trying in vain to swipe at each other across his broad chest. Levi was unsurprised.  
“I wanna play with Mikasa too!”  
“Yeah, well she doesn’t want to play with you! She thinks you’re ugly!”  
The first child, with a tufted head of ash coloured hair, responded with a yowl like an offended cat and tried to grab hold of the other’s hair. Erwin, apparently oblivious to the battle that was going on around him, asked who had been at the door. Levi directed his attention down to Marco, who was taking refuge beneath the line of coats which hung over the little mountain of shoes, in order to avoid being struck accidentally by the warring infants in Erwin’s arms.  
“Another one. What’s your name then?” he said, looming over the boy.  
“Marco Bodt,” the child replied, with a slight stammer on his last name. He waved up at Erwin, beaming at him.  
“Well then Marco, I’m Erwin, and that’s Levi. And this is Eren,” he lifted the boy in question an inch or so higher, “and this is Jean,” and then lifted the other as well. Marco peered at them both, mumbling a little ‘hello’ of which they took no notice.  
“Hey Erwin, I’ve got an idea.” Levi stood up, and rapped Jean lightly on the head. “Oi, Kirstein. You’re going to stop bothering Eren and Mikasa-“  
“But-“  
“And you’re going to play with Marco here.”  
“But I don’t want to! And he’s got stuff all over his face,” the child responded petulantly, shooting a venom filled glare in Levi’s direction. At a signal from Levi, Erwin dropped Jean. Levi picked him up by the back of his shirt, raising him to his level.  
“You will play nicely with Marco here, or I’ll make you go play with Christa and Ymir. You remember what happened last time you played with Christa and Ymir, don’t you?”  
Jean’s eyes widened, and a far-away look came into them; a look full of terrors past but not forgotten. Levi deposited him back on the floor, next to Marco.  
The freckled boy smiled, and reached out to pat Jean on the head lightly. “You have nice hair,” he announced cheerfully. Jean scowled, but said nothing. Levi was watching him. But then, suddenly, he wasn’t. A thought had just occurred to him.  
“Erwin…who the hell is watching the kitchen?”


	2. Cookie Thieves

The sound of the doorbell to Sasha was like a call to arms, a rousing cry to stir herself and make ready. The short sentinel was called away, lured by the sound. The other one was already engaged in separating Eren and Jean, who tussled violently on the road-patterned mat in the corner, where Eren, Mikasa and Armin had been playing until a few moments ago. Sasha elbowed Connie.  
“Ow!” He moved to hit her back, but then he saw where she was pointing. He nodded.  
“All right, break it up you two. No biting!”  
Sasha and Connie edged across the room towards the kitchen. Once within sprinting distance they hurtled across the threshold, Connie executing an elaborate slide across the white tiles of the kitchen floor. Knowing Eren and Jean, it would take Erwin a while to separate the pair of them. Sasha didn’t need to scan the countertops, she knew where her target lay. She had been vigilant, patient - she had planned.  
“Here, Connie, here. Kneel, here.” Sasha pressed her palm to the spot, closest to the cupboard she sought. When Connie was ready she clambered onto his back and locked her small, pudgy hands onto the edge of the counter.  
“Ok, go!”  
Connie moved out from under her, grabbing her legs and giving her the necessary boost to reach the countertop. In that moment all of Sasha’s hopes hung in limbo. When she felt the smooth, faux-marble surface beneath her knees, she knew how close she was.  
“Watch the door. T-tell me if they’re coming back.” She stood up on the counter, marvelling at how things looked from such an altitude. She allowed herself only the briefest second to enjoy the feeling, before she turned her attention back to the task in hand; her goal, her dream. She grasped the handle of the cupboard above her head – so nearly out of reach, even after she had made it this far! – and pulled. It swung outwards, she ducked, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head which would have brought all her hopes to an untimely end. There it lay. Her crucible. Her precious jewel. The cookie jar. That smooth, clear crystal with its delicious contents so wantonly displayed. An assortment of delights. Sasha licked her lips, reached for the jar. It was heavy; heavier than she’d anticipated, and for one hideous moment it fell like a rock despite her hot, little hands clinging to its sides. She managed to avert the crash however and after lowering it carefully to the countertop she pried off the lid and set to pillaging the contents.  
She stuffed two cookies into her mouth, and four into each of her dress pockets. She’d share the pocketed ones with Connie, and with any luck he’d forget about the two she was currently chewing and she could have the contents of one pocket in its entirety. She replaced the lid.  
“Connie?”  
“They’re not there.”  
Enthused by this report, Sasha prepared to lift the jar in order to replace it on the shelf. Provided no one noticed the missing biscuits she hoped to repeat this venture the next time the opportunity arose, every time the opportunity arose in fact. She contemplated a rosy future, studded variously with cookies and other treats.  
It seemed the jar made no end of noise as she tried to lift it back onto its shelf. Something clattered at the back of the cupboard, and for some reason she could not fit the jar in properly.  
“…stupid jar. Won’t fit.” She pummelled it with her little, crumb-covered fists.  
“Sasha, quick!”  
“Wha-!”  
Sasha looked around, her shoulder braced against the jar to hold it in place. She was looking down on a head of jet black hair. It moved, and she was instead looking into a pair of narrow, somewhat angry, grey eyes. Sasha gulped down the remaining half-masticated cookie fragments stuck to the roof of her mouth and prepared to meet her fate with grace and decorum.

Erwin, upon entering the kitchen, was surprised to see a squalling Sasha suspended from one of the cupboard handles by her dress.  
“So that’s what’s causing all the noise.”  
Connie crept past Erwin’s leg. He was, however, not fast enough to avoid Levi.  
Erwin now surveyed two suspended children, and sighed. “Levi, health and safety-“  
“-don’t have to know.”  
Levi set the cookie jar on the counter, underneath Connie and Sasha’s feet. He removed two extra biscuits, to add to the eight that Sasha had sought to smuggle away from the jar, his face a mask of distaste. The greasiness, the crumbs, it was already all over his fingers. He’d have to wash them, but first…He cast a significant look at Sasha, hanging sullenly from the cupboard.  
“Give these to Christa and Ymir, would you?” Levi handed the two cookies he’d just taken to Erwin, and then shouted into the playroom that anyone who wanted a cookie had to come to the kitchen, quickly.

Sasha pouted, but refused to cry as she watched the fruits of her labour distributed amongst those other than herself. Erwin went outside, where Christa and Ymir were playing at knights and princesses as always, so they wouldn’t feel left out (or more precisely so Ymir couldn’t kick up a fuss later when she found out cookies had been handed out and her beloved Christa had not been allowed one – for a six year old she could be downright terrifying). Levi evidently intended, however, for the remainder to be devoured right before Sasha’s begrudging eyes. Most of them didn’t seem to care about the pain they were causing her, though Armin cast a glance in her and Connie’s direction with what seemed like pity. One boy, who Sasha didn’t recognise, pointedly refused the proffered treat.  
“Don’t you want it then?”  
The freckled boy looked at Connie and Sasha, then back at Levi and simply shook his head again.  
“Well, it’s up to you.”  
“I’ll have his!” Half a dozen voices abruptly rose to claim the remaining biscuit. Levi looked down at the small things for a moment, considering all the dumb shit he could try and get them to do for the sake of a mouthful of half-stale shop bought biscuit. He reconsidered, and ate it himself.


	3. Spilled Squash and Daisy Crowns

“Christa, take that thing off your head. I don’t want to be picking bits of it out of the carpet later.”  
Ymir’s eyes narrowed, a barely distinguishable flame was ignited in them.  
“Aww, but Ymir made it for me.” Christa pouted and looked at her hands.  
“It’s made of outside things, and outside things stay where?”  
Christa pulled the daisy crown from her head, leaving a few white petals in her golden hair, and cradled in in her hands.  
“Sorry Ymir. I’ll wear it again after lunch.” She lay the crown down on the climbing frame, and the pair of them went inside. Ymir glared at Levi as she passed by. He glared back.

Inside, Armin and Marco were helping Erwin to set the table. Feeding twelve four-to-six year olds was surely intended as one of the endless tasks assigned to sinners in Hell. It was like a military operation – like Passchendaele was a military operation. Levi felt certain he would never quite manage to get rid of all the stains, of all the crumbs and the dried peas which had become lost and mashed into the carpet. It made him nauseous sometimes, just thinking about the carnage which lay undiscovered just inches away. There was hardly space to add another chair. The rest of them already looked like crooked teeth, jumbled up together. They worked the chair in, at one of the corners. Next came the plates. Even with Armin and Marco it still took a while.  
“Which do you want?” Levi said to Marco, holding up an apple and an orange. Marco looked momentarily panicked, as if he suspected there was a correct answer and he was not quite sure which one it was. The child swayed slightly, sucked on his lower lip, and then pointed tentatively to the apple.  
“Apple, please.”  
Levi placed it on the plate, and put the plate in Marco’s place at the table. The boy was smiling again.

Now came the arduous part of the campaign; physically lifting all twelve into their places. Fit as he was this was still a challenge for Levi, for whom some of the chair-backs came up to his chin. Sasha and Connie had been allowed down from the cupboards, but they were not allowed to sit together, to prevent any further scheming. Levi dropped Jean next to Marco, with Sasha on his other side. At first it had been a nightmare sorting out who sat where. Putting Jean next to Eren meant disaster – Levi could still see the stain from the blackcurrant squash which had fallen, though most had ended up over Jean’s head, and it annoyed him every new time he saw it. These days Levi made sure Eren was cushioned between Mikasa and Armin, where he could not be an annoyance. Reiner and Bertoldt were inseparable, as were Ymir and Christa, and so they always sat together. Annie, a sullen blonde girl, usually ended up slotted in between Ymir and Reiner. As usual, Levi watched proceedings with bated breath, anticipating drinks sloshing onto the table and carpet, plates flicked over and sandwiches falling the wrong side down. All seemed well. But then inevitably, someone reached out and flipped a cup onto its side. Orange squash sloshed around the plates, dribbling over the side of the table. There was a little chorus of shrieks as squash cascaded into several children’s laps. Levi felt his eye twitch. It was really too late to save the carpet. He went to get the kitchen towel. The amount Levi spent on this most valuable of items and other assorted cleaning items, per week, if translated into hours, totalled roughly the amount of time a fresher spent drunk during the first week of the semester. Since turning their house into a day nursery Levi had noticed the definite increase in the amount of time he spent cleaning things. It had been barely a month, and already he felt he was losing the battle.

With the spillage mopped up lunch soon finished and Levi and Erwin had to lift each of the children back out of their seats. Levi switched the television on, and a small group of the brats gathered before it, like worshippers before some potent idol. Marco hovered near the table and looked hesitantly at Levi.  
“What? Go play or something,” he muttered, scowling. Jean came and grabbed Marco’s arm, tugging him away to show him some of the toys in the corner. Levi watched with interest as Jean drew Marco’s attention to those toys which he had always favoured. Levi raised an eyebrow and prodded Erwin as he passed, directing his eyes to the miraculous sight. Jean was, by Levi’s estimation, a rather self-centred child and loath to share with anyone else.  
“I am seeing that right? That is Jean being…nice?”  
Erwin looked, nodded. “It seems to be that way.”  
“…weird.” Levi half-expected to look around and find great big cracks forming in the fabric of reality, or for Marco to reveal himself as some sort of demon spawn capable of inverting the natural order of things. Nothing happened.

In the garden Christa again donned her flower crown which had somewhat wilted in the interim between the start and end of lunch. It sagged a little around her temples and left tiny white petals in her hair. The stems were bruised and twisted and it was not long before the thing snapped and disintegrated. Ymir immediately set to making another one. Christa sat beside her, watching the way she wove the unfortunate flowers together. Christa had tried making daisy crowns before, but she wasn’t nearly as good as Ymir. They both had grass stains all over their clothes, which was now partly the reason for their permanent exile into the garden. Levi would probably had started foaming at the mouth if they had managed to get grass smeared into the carpet or the sofas.  
“There,” Ymir said, placing the newly-finished crown on Christa’s blonde head. “Now you’re a princess.”  
Christa smiled and placed her hand on Ymir’s shoulder. “I dob you Sir Ymir,” she announced, slightly garbling the address.  
“Just Ymir.”  
“But that’s what it says in the books. It’s ‘sir’ for knights. It’s always ‘sir’”  
“You don’t have to do it like it says in the books. You’re a princess, you can do what you want.”  
“Ok! I want to go on the swing. Can you push me Ymir?”

Erwin looked out of the kitchen window into the garden with a small frown.  
“She’s going to send her into orbit if she keeps that up.”  
The swing, held to the lawn by nothing stronger than a few steel pins, creaked in protest as Christa was propelled higher and higher into the air. It was a wonder that Christa had not been flung into next door’s garden or the garden after that. The little girl was laughing merrily, and seemed to have no concern for any potential peril should she happen to slip, or the swing’s base leave the ground.  
Erwin’s attention was recalled to the kitchen by the feel of a small hand tugging at his trouser leg. He looked down into a pair of pale blue eyes.  
“We want to go on the trampoline,” Annie said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Bertoldt and Reiner who stood behind her.  
“Off you go then.”  
The trio walked sedately to the door, jumping down the steps into the garden. What looked like a glare passed from Ymir’s eyes in their direction but she did not defer her attention from Christa for an instant more. Annie, Bertoldt and Reiner climbed up onto the trampoline. They soon started building up static, and Annie and Reiner’s heads came to resemble dandelions, while Bert’s hair stubbornly refused to move. After a while they started playing ‘Break the Egg’. Erwin watched placidly while Bertoldt and Annie were lifted many feet into the air by the force of Reiner’s jumps. They didn’t rise much higher than the netting around the trampoline though, so all seemed well. Annie, it seemed, was a rather determined player and not even the combined efforts of Bertoldt and Reiner were enough to shift her. From her swing Christa called down to Ymir that she wanted to play too. The swing was stopped in an instant. The fourteen-foot trampoline was beginning to look crowded. It had sometimes crossed Erwin’s mind, now and then, to wonder whether, if one child could bounce their fellows almost to the height of the safety net, the combined effort of him and Hange would be enough to lift Levi to, say, the level of the roof.

Levi sat cross-legged on the sofa looking at the floor.  
“You better pick all those up later,” he said, speaking to Eren who was at that moment near the edge of the sofa.  
“I will.” His face had a grim little expression of determination as, with infinite care, he placed the wooden bricks on top of each other. Levi was not sure exactly what he was trying to achieve. So far, he had made a long curving line, and he had set Mikasa and Armin to work in other corners of the room. Sasha, Connie, Jean and Marco had been banished to corners of the room. The latter pair were sat on a beanbag looking through a picture book together, while Sasha and Connie seemed to be plotting. Levi was keeping an eye on them. He was otherwise curious though as to what exactly it was Eren was building. Whatever it was, he was going to run out of bricks before long. Levi had made a quick mental calculation looking at the bricks already set out, and the small, dwindling pile in the middle of the carpet. He hoped this wasn’t going to be the cause of a new temper tantrum.  
“What are you supposed to be building?”  
“A wall.”  
“A wall for what?”  
“To keep all them out.” Eren glowered at the other occupants of the room.  
Levi sighed. “That’s not very nice Eren.”  
“You’re not very nice.”  
“I know. But I’m older than you, I’m allowed to be not very nice.”  
“But,” said Armin, looking somewhat worried, “not all old people aren’t nice. My grandpa’s really really old and he’s nice.”  
“Well I guess that makes him special.”  
Armin smiled and went back to stacking bricks. There was a hateful sound coming from the kitchen. It was the sound of a chorus of snotty, earnest and unrestrained tears. Levi groaned. “What is it now?” he shouted. Erwin shouted back one word.  
“Ymir.”  
Levi climbed over the armrest, so as to avoid interfering with Eren’s ‘wall’ and thus setting off the Jaeger-bomb, and went into the kitchen.

“Ok Ymir, what do you reckon this time? An hour in the quiet room and apologies, or do I have to split you and Christa up?”  
The look in the little’s girl’s eyes said she suspected a bluff. Levi wasn’t bluffing. The stare continued for a few moments, almost half a minute.  
“First one,” Ymir admitted at last. She turned around and approached the three sobbing children. “Sorry Reiner. Sorry Annie. Sorry Bertoldt.” She looked back at Levi with a withering expression, as if to say ‘will that do?’ Lacking in sincerity as it had been, Levi knew he wasn’t going to get anything better without a war. He escorted her to the quiet room; a little, heavily curtained room full of beanbags, blankets and a few stuffed toys just off the hallway. Ymir set herself down on a sagging, brown beanbag and crossed her arms and legs.  
“One hour,” she said, with the clear implication that she would know and remember if Levi left her there for a minute longer.

Christa sniffed while Erwin wrapped a bandage around her arm. There wasn’t any blood and so the bandage was more for show than anything else. It had, of course, been an accident that Bert had stamped on her arm. It was not so much an accident that Ymir had pushed Bertoldt into Reiner and Annie. Technically it was perhaps not so much Ymir’s fault that Reiner’s chin had struck Annie’s nose. Having dealt with Ymir Levi now held a handful of tissues to Annie’s nose. Reiner already had a plaster stuck to his chin and was holding Bertoldt’s hand. The dark haired child had yet to stop crying, although he was the least hurt.  
“Great, she’s got blood all down her top.”  
“There’s spare clothes somewhere,” Erwin answered, as he finished tying the bandage on Christa’s arm.  
“Well go grab something then. Blood stains set fast.”  
Annie whined, though the sound was muffled by the great wad of tissues Levi held to her face.  
“Come on Annie you’re being really brave. Calm down Bert, it’s not your fault.”  
Christa looked down at the table, pressing her nails into the oilcloth which covered it. She nodded glumly when Levi asked if she intended to stay there. Levi nudged the two boys into the playroom. Erwin came back with a small navy blue t-shirt.  
“Right Annie, I need to take this off so I can wash it. Lift your arms.”  
Annie did as she was told. Her nose wasn’t bleeding as badly as before, though her top looked like a piece from a crime scene.  
“Ok, put this on. Can you hold the tissue there for me? Good.”  
Levi ran some cold water in the sink and began trying to remove some of the blood before he ran it through the washing machine. Christa glanced at Annie before mumbling a barely audible apology. Annie, by now overcoming the shock and pain, merely shrugged.  
“Has it stopped bleeding?” Levi left the top in the sink and lifted Annie’s hand away from her nose. “Yeah, looks like it. You can go back next door if you want.”  
Annie slunk off, looking a little like an ill-tempered lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I know most childminders have safety guidelines they have to follow. As far as I know you're only allowed one child on a trampoline or something, and certainly not five at once. But I'm ignoring those rules. Yay for wilful inaccuracy.


	4. Homeward Bound

The doorbell rang. Levi looked at the clock. It was too early for most of the parents or guardians. When he went to the door he was met by Marco’s mother, smiling beatifically as any angel. Levi turned and called for Marco. Jean followed him, lingering by the doorway. Marco gave a little squeal of joy to see his mother and ran to her at once.  
“Hello there, Marco. Guess what? Mummy got the job,” she announced to him, holding him in her arms with one finger pressed playfully to his nose. Marco beamed at her and clapped his hands together. He stopped, as if remembering something, and looked down at the floor.  
“Is it time to go now?”  
“Yes, have you been having fun sweetheart?”  
Marco nodded so vehemently he almost toppled out of his mother’s arms. He pointed at Jean. “That’s Jean,” he said proudly. Marco’s mother put him down again.  
“Well hello Jean,” she smiled, waving at him. She told Marco to say goodbye to his friend. She straightened up while Marco stumbled over to Jean and hugged him.  
“He hasn’t been any trouble has he?”  
“Not at all,” Levi said. From the playroom could be heard a clatter of bricks and a wail.  
“Bertoldt you ruined it!”  
Levi put his fingers to his temple and suppressed a groan. “Erwin,” he turned and shouted over his shoulder, “can you get that?”  
“Got it!”  
“Um, how much do I…?”  
“Right,” Levi turned his attention back to the freckled woman and named the fee. She dug around in her wallet. Levi felt something knock into his leg. Looking down he saw big brown eyes looking up at him.  
“Thanks for looking after me,” Marco said, smiling up at him.  
“You’re welcome.”  
Marco detached himself from Levi’s leg and went to wait by his mother. There was the sound of crying coming from the playroom.  
“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound very good,” said Marco’s mother, smiling sympathetically as she handed over the money. As she was about to leave Jean came up and put his arms around Marco. He did not let go until over a minute later. Marco waved goodbye to both Levi and Jean. When they were gone Jean sighed, and sat on the stairs. Levi looked in through the open door and saw Erwin holding Eren upside down.  
“Erwin, I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to hold children like that.”  
“You’re probably not supposed to suspend them from cupboard doors either.”  
Eren was in the midst of a temper tantrum of awesome proportions. Levi was certain there were antique speeches of war which were less terrifying than the infantile fury currently being demonstrated. ‘I reckon I could kick him from here’ Levi thought. With the brat in mid-air he was at roughly the ideal height to –  
“Levi, no.”  
“I wasn’t going to.”  
Erwin gave him a look.

It was that time of the day when, one by one, parents or guardians arrived and the cluster of children began to reduce. Ymir had been released but her reunion with Christa was short-lived as someone arrived almost immediately to take the little blonde girl home. Annie’s father gave her a hearty hug when he heard about her accident. Sasha’s mother looked aghast when told what her daughter had gotten up to. By half past five only four children remained. An hour later it was just Jean. He sat on the same beanbag he had occupied with Marco that afternoon but it was with a far more dejected and melancholy air.  
“What time is it?” he asked Levi, sitting up and looking at him with wide, worried, eyes.  
“Six thirty-five,” Levi answered. “I’m sure he won’t be much longer,” he added, seeing the way Jean’s eyes lowered to the floor. Jean curled up on the beanbag, the tip of his thumb just resting in his mouth. Levi left him to it.

“It’s the third time this week he’s been late, isn’t it?” Erwin said, when Levi walked into the kitchen.  
“Bastard,” Levi muttered, sitting down at the kitchen table. Erwin bent over him, looping an arm loosely around his neck. “You deal with him Erwin, when or if he turns up. I’ll just end up punching him.” Levi leaned back against Erwin’s chest. “Do we still have all that cheap French wine?”  
“I think so.”  
“Good.”  
“How’s Jean?”  
“Huddled in a ball and looking like an abandoned puppy,” Levi said, rubbing his temples. The hands of the clock moved on steadily.

It was almost seven before they heard the doorbell again. Jean stayed curled up on the beanbag and Levi stayed in the kitchen, counting in his head. He heard the man on the doorstep talking.  
“Sorry I’m late. Things in the office. Time got away from me. Jean, come on. Time to go.”  
“I’ve been waiting for ages,” Levi heard Jean saying, drawing out the penultimate syllable.  
“Jean, don’t use that tone with me. I’ve had a long day, now go get in the car.”  
Levi expected Jean to whine more, but he heard nothing else apart from Erwin politely telling Jean’s father that their working hours ran until half six only.  
“Well I can’t help it. If there’s traffic there’s traffic, and if work needs doing then it needs doing. I can’t do anything about it. Look, here’s the extra money for the extra twenty minutes, alright?”  
Levi lifted his head off the table, struggling to keep his attention on the numbers. Mr Kirstein may have been taller than him, but so were most people. It didn’t count for much.  
Finally he heard the door slam. Erwin walked back into the kitchen.  
“Erwin grab the booze.” Levi couldn’t reach the wine rack without mimicking Sasha’s earlier efforts to reach the cookie jar. He had only attempted it twice, in times of acute desperation when the need for alcohol had outweighed the indignity of having to stand on a chair and then on the counter in order to reach it. “Remind me, what the fuck were we thinking when we decided this was a good idea?”  
“It’s not going that badly. I think it’s going well in fact.”  
“Shut up,” said Levi, snatching the proffered wine glass from Erwin and swallowing half of it.  
“Well, we could always call Hange to help out.”  
Levi shuddered, and refilled his glass. “Hange, with children? Are you mad?”  
“That’s a no then?”  
“I always knew you had an evil streak…” Levi muttered, rubbing his eyelids. “As funny as it would be, I think it would be a bad idea.”  
Erwin smiled slightly, sipping some of the wine which had an unfortunate vinegary aftertaste. Levi had noticed it, but didn’t seem to care all that much.  
“How drunk are you planning on getting?”  
Levi glanced at Erwin, “Not so drunk that I can’t find my way to bed later, if that’s what you mean.”

Midnight found Levi and Erwin asleep in bed. They seldom slept side by side, as Levi rather preferred a diagonal sort of position, reminiscent of many an annoying bed-loving cat, with his feet resting on Erwin’s stomach and his head only just touching the pillow. A casual observer would likely wonder how he could find such an awkward position comfortable, or how Erwin could sleep with Levi’s heels digging into his abdomen. In the case of the latter it was a learned response. He’d gotten used to it over the years. Even when Levi kicked him, mostly accidentally or on account of odd dreams, he didn’t stir.


	5. It's All Fun and Games...

If looks could kill…  
Ymir glowered at Reiner. “That’s our place,” she said, in a voice which sounded like it had cycled round every treacherous, ice-covered mountain before leaving her mouth.  
Reiner stood his ground, feet firmly planted on top of the climbing frame. “I don’t see your names on it.” Bertoldt cowered behind him, glancing from time to time at Christa, who peered out from under Ymir’s elbow, clinging to her as if she were a life buoy.  
“I’ll make you cry again,” said Ymir, her hands on her hips and a malignant look in her eye. Reiner didn’t flinch. Bertoldt, on the other hand, ducked entirely behind his back and tried to make himself invisible. 

“Looks like revolution is in the air,” said Erwin, pointing to the window. Levi looked out and saw the stalemate they had come to.  
“We should probably stop them, before they kill each other.”  
“We probably should, you’re right.”  
“Well,” Levi looked at Erwin expectantly.  
“I did it last time.”  
With minimal effort, the stare turned into a glare. Erwin didn’t seem to notice. “It’s only fair.”  
“Easy for you to say. Her fists aren’t right at crotch height for you. The brat can punch.” Levi glanced at the kitchen doorway. When, as the first blow was struck outside in the garden, Erwin turned to look for Levi he had gone.

“Jean, what is with the long face?”  
The aforementioned child sat, looking decidedly more sullen than usual, on the beanbag in the corner. He looked up at Levi and shrugged. Usually by this time of the morning Jean had at least attempted to pull Mikasa’s hair. Levi glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if Erwin was still in the kitchen or if the situation in the garden had demanded his attention already. He was gone, and Levi thought he could hear his low, rumbling tones some distance away.  
“There’s no one to play with,” Jean said, with a sigh which lifted his small body almost off the beanbag.  
“Why don’t you play with Annie? She’s not playing with anyone at the moment.”  
Both children looked up at him, Annie and Jean, with rather different expressions. Annie’s was cold, like the hands of a corpse stuck in ice, while Jean’s seemed to be questioning his sanity.  
“What about Sasha and Connie?”  
The pair, upon hearing their names mentioned raised their heads and shook them vigorously.  
“I’m fine,” said Jean, rolling over so he faced the wall. Levi shrugged, and went to see how Erwin was getting on.

This time there were two bloody shirts in the sink. Reiner held a tea towel stuffed with ice to his lip, while Ymir held another to her eye. A thin red line descended from her nose, and she persisted in wiping it away with her hand rather than use a tissue. Levi was trying not to look at her, because the sight of blood from her nose being smeared all round her face, all down one arm and dripping in little blotches onto his (well, his and Erwin’s) kitchen floor was likely more than he could bear. The mere thought of it made him shudder. Christa and Bertoldt were huddled by the kitchen door, on the steps, looking in anxiously at their respective friends.  
“Reiner, show me your arm again?” Erwin said. Reiner presented him with a perfect impression of Ymir’s upper teeth.  
“Ymir, for the last time please wash your hands…”  
“Levi, could you pass the antiseptic?”  
Reiner looked stoically at the bottle as it was handed over. “What’s that for?”  
“In case she’s given you rabies,” Levi said, looking at Ymir as she very deliberately wiped her bloody nose down her entire arm, frim knuckles to elbow.  
“Is it going to hurt?”  
“Yes,” snapped Levi, losing his patience and hauling Ymir over to the sink.  
Reiner looked worriedly at Erwin as he unscrewed the cap and tipped some of the antiseptic on a pad of cotton wool which he then dabbed in the bowl of water he had used when first cleaning the wound.  
“Ymir. Hands. Water. Now.”  
“It’ll sting for a second. Be brave.”  
Reiner nodded sharply, scrunching his eyes shut. Erwin placed the damp cotton wool on Reiner’s arm. The boy flinched, but only barely. Erwin wrapped the arm in a bandage and let him go. Bertoldt hugged his friend tightly, while Christa looked on horrified as Ymir was compelled almost entirely into the sink. She struggled like an angry cat, complete with claws. When Levi dropped her onto the kitchen floor she brought with her a third of the water from the sink and immediately darted out into the garden.  
Erwin hid his smirk behind his hand when Levi turned round. His shirt was drenched to transparency.  
“Laugh and I kick you.”  
“I’m not laughing.”  
Levi watched him closely for a few seconds, standing in the stance of the suddenly damp.  
“Are you going to stand there all day?” Erwin asked.  
“I’m deciding what I want to do more; drown Ymir or change into dry clothes.”  
“The second one is the more legal.”  
“Screw legality.”

An hour later, in dry clothes, Levi was sat on the sofa reading while the brats congregated round the television. Except for Jean. He had managed to sustain his lonely sulk all through lunch, barely eating anything, and now that it was over he had gone back to his beanbag in the corner. Levi felt he should probably do something. Looking at Kirstein’s mournful mug was starting to make him feel depressed.  
“Jean, what is the problem? Why don’t you go bother Mikasa?”  
Jean made an indeterminate growling sound and burrowed into the folds of the beanbag, wrapping it over himself. Levi saw Armin looking round and frowning at the beanbag, which now looked more like a dumpling. He stumbled onto his feet and toddled over. Jean’s hair just poked out. Armin patted it.  
“What’s wrong Jean?”  
“Go away.”  
Armin frowned again, and then Eren called over his shoulder for him to leave ‘the horse’ alone. Levi shut his book with a sharp snap.  
“Right, everyone up. Outside. That includes you misery guts.”  
Despite several protests Levi herded them out through the kitchen and into the garden. Erwin stared at them quizzically as they passed by.

Once they were outside Levi organised the children in a circle.  
“We’re going to play a game. You know Duck Duck Goose, right?”  
Erwin stepped outside and leant on the railings by the steps. “Levi, what are you doing?”  
“Not sure. Sit down, all of you. Except for you, Armin. You get to go first.”  
A look of panic passed across Armin’s face as everyone around him sat down, leaving him standing alone.  
“Right, I want no unnecessary violence –“  
Mikasa raised her arm. “What’s un-ne-cess-ary mean?”  
“Well, I’ll put it this way. Anyone pushing, kicking, biting, tripping, punching or otherwise injuring one another will very shortly find themselves in the upper branches of that tree there.” He pointed to the oak tree at the bottom of the garden by the fence.  
“You can’t reach that far,” said Eren, smirking.  
“No but I can throw.”

Levi leant against the railings next to Erwin.  
“Looks like it worked,” Erwin murmured.  
“What?” Levi looked at him.  
“Your plan. You were trying to cheer Jean up I think.”  
Levi shrugged. “If you say so.”  
The children were now playing ‘Stuck in the Mud’ and Levi was pleased to note that it had not descended into a bloodbath. Yet. He had his eyes on Ymir. He could easily imagine her ‘accidentally’ punching someone when she went to unstick them. Jean was no longer miserable looking, and was actually smiling and laughing while he ran around away from Bertoldt, who was ‘it’. Levi clapped his hands. “Ok, changeover. Mikasa’s ‘it’.”  
There were a few squeals as Mikasa charged after those near to her with the cold-hearted speed of a machine. Five minutes later and she had pinned and stuck Annie against the fence. There were no other survivors. The garden was immobile.  
“Mikasa I’m impressed. That was ruthless,” Levi said. “Ok, new game.” He set them off playing ‘What’s the Time Mr Wolf?’.  
“I’m running out of ideas, what time is it?”  
“Dinner Time!” There was a chorus of shrieks from the garden as the children scattered, running away from Eren, who made a rather convincing wolf.  
“Half two.”  
“How the hell do they have so much energy?” Levi muttered, leaning heavily on Erwin. “Move, and I divorce you,” he warned, closing his eyes.

“Can we play games outside again tomorrow?” said Sasha, jumping up and down, when her mum came to pick her up.  
“Maybe if the weather’s good.”  
Sasha beamed and looked at her mother. “I hope it’s sunny! Really really sunny!” she said, stretching her arms up into the air. Her mum smiled at her, and off they went. The other parents starting arriving and gradually the pool of infants dissipated. Most of them were still buzzing with energy but, as it turned half past five, Jean went back to the beanbag in the corner. Armin, alone now that Eren and Mikasa had gone, went and sat next to him and chattered away to him until his grandfather arrived five minutes later. Now it was only Jean and Christa left. The latter was asleep in the Quiet Room, since she’d said she felt sleepy shortly after Ymir left.  
“Will Marco be here tomorrow?” Jean asked.  
Levi shrugged. Jean looked immeasurably downtrodden, as if the world had just showered him with shit. But, he couldn’t lie to him. In the kitchen the phone rang. Levi heard Erwin answer it.  
“You had fun today without him,” Levi said.  
Jean sighed, and kicked the beanbag.  
There was a knock on the door. After answering it Levi went to wake up Christa. The little blonde looked a tad pale.

Erwin put the phone back, and walked into the playroom. Levi stepped in, having just shut the front door.  
“Jean, you’ll be interested to hear this,” said Erwin. Both Jean and Levi looked in his direction.  
“Marco’s mother just called. He’s going to be coming here from now on, same as you.”  
Jean jumped up. “Really?”  
“Yes. He’ll be here on Saturday.”  
Jean looked momentarily quizzical.  
“The day after tomorrow,” Levi clarified. “Come on, do you want a snack or something? You didn’t eat much earlier on, and your dad probably won’t be here for a little while yet.”  
Jean nodded, apparently not disconcerted that he had to wait another day before he got to see his new friend again.


	6. A Quantity of Puke

“Are you feeling alright Christa?”  
The little girl nodded. Levi had just heard her cough with a sound like a chainsaw hitting a nail.  
“You’re sure?”  
Christa nodded again. Ymir was holding onto her hand, swinging their arms lightly. “Can we go outside?” Christa asked. Her voice sounded almost as melodious as usual, apart from a faint sepulchral crackling. Ymir looked at her, his brow creased with concern. She slapped her little hand onto Christa’s forehead and frowned. Ymir turned around and pulled Christa out of the kitchen into the playroom, grabbed a cushion from the sofa and put it on the floor, pushed Christa over until her backside landed on the cushion and her back was pressed against the sofa. She then ran and grabbed a blanket from the Quiet Room, along with a small stuffed rabbit. She wrapped the blanket around Christa and pushed the rabbit into her arms. She then ran over to Levi and demanded a cup of water. When this was given she rushed back and handed it to Christa. The little blonde girl looked somewhat perplexed, and a little unwell. Levi hoped she wasn’t going to be sick. That would make it the third day in a row he’d had to deal with unsightly body fluids. He might as well make bingo cards with all the gross stuff he could think of, he’d probably manage to cross them all off by winter.  
“Christa?”  
Ymir was already hugging the blanket-wrapped child, glaring spitefully at the others in the room. Levi decided to leave them as they were, he’d probably hear it anyway if Christa threw up.

There was a collective shriek followed by a low groan. A brief wave of children came scurrying into the kitchen.  
“Christa’s been sick,” Armin helpfully informed Levi.  
“It’s gone everywhere,” said Eren, grinning like Beelzebub himself.  
“It smells really bad,” said Connie, making a face.  
“And it’s got green bits in it...” added Sasha.  
“Alright, alright. Enough,” Levi said. He looked at the ceiling, wondering whether if he concentrated hard enough he could summon Erwin by thought alone. “Screw it.” Ymir would probably be pissed if he hesitated much longer. He poked his head around the doorway. The scent was already wafting, butterfly-like, towards him. He could hear Christa sniffling and groaning. He stepped further into the room. Ymir was still hugging Christa tightly. She did not even look up when Levi walked in. The freckled girl was rubbing her back, murmuring away to her friend.  
“What happened?” said Levi, though he knew already.  
“I don’t feel well,” Christa whined, whimpering a little. Her face was damp, and exceptionally pale. It was indeed as bad as Eren had gleefully informed him. Christa’s skirt was sodden with vomit. She’d manage to get the carpet around her in an almost perfect semi-circle. It seemed absurd that so much putrid stuff could come out of such a little creature. The blanket Ymir had carefully wrapped around Christa’s shoulders was smeared as well with the contents of her stomach. Levi was, understandably, a little baffled where to begin.  
“Hey,” he called into the kitchen, “one of you brats go upstairs and get Erwin. The rest of you stay out of the way.”  
Armin darted out past him and scurried towards the stairs, almost managing to trip over his own feet. Levi went back into the kitchen and started filling up a basin with water.  
“Eren, if you don’t stop grinning I’ll make you help.”  
Eren scowled, and stuck out his tongue. Levi had to restrain himself from kicking the brat.  
“I feel kinda sick too…” Jean mumbled.  
“Go stand outside in the fresh air then. If you’re sick then you won’t be here tomorrow when Marco comes, will you?”  
Jean immediately stood up straight and ran to the backdoor, jumping to reach the handle. Levi had to reach across the help him. He heard Erwin’s footsteps on the stairs, heard him talking to Christa. Levi walked back in with the water and kitchen towel, held tightly under one arm. Erwin looked up.  
“I’ll take that, you call her family.”  
Levi put the water down and handed the paper towel to him. “The number’s in the book with the other’s right?”  
“Yeah,” Erwin nodded, scraping up the chunks from the carpet without even the flicker of a grimace. “You owe me for this,” he said, with a strange suggestive raise of the eyebrows.  
“What was that expression supposed to be?”  
“I think you know.”  
“Whatever.” Levi went to find the phone and the notebook where they kept all the contact info. He flicked through and found Christa. The phone rang several cycles before someone picked it up.

“Do you feel better Christa?” Ymir asked, stroking Christa’s hair. Christa nodded weakly, resting her head on Ymir’s arm. Erwin dabbed at her skirt. From the kitchen came the distinct sound of Levi, peaked in anger. Erwin covered Christa’s ears. Ymir covered her own. Two minutes later, after quite a minor tirade by Levi standards, they heard Levi slam the phone down.  
“Shitheads!” Levi stormed into the room. “They say they can’t come get her. Erwin, you take her to the hospital, I’ll finish cleaning. What shitheads. She was sick in the night too. Why the hell would they send her here when she’s this sick?” He finished up with a snarl of disgust.  
Erwin lifted Christa up. The little girl was shivering, despite the red sheen all over her face and arms. Erwin headed towards the door. Ymir followed after him.  
“Ymir, what are you doing?” Levi asked.  
Ymir turned and glared at him. “I’m going with her.” There was no room for debate. Levi shrugged, looking down at the half-cleared vomit and hadn’t the heart to battle with Ymir.

“Is Christa going to be alright?” Armin asked when Levi walked back into the kitchen. The rest of the children, even Jean who had come inside after hearing Levi shouting, huddled around him, looking anxious. Even Eren had lost his grin.  
“Probably,” Levi said, distracted. He covered his hands in soap and put them under the tap. He looked round and saw just under a dozen pale faces, looking even more worried.  
“She’ll be fine. She’s just going to the hospital to be on the safe side.”  
There was a chorus of sighs.

Levi tried to call Erwin an hour or so later, but he must still have been in the hospital since his phone was off. Even without Christa and Ymir to seat, lunchtime was an effort. By the time he had put everyone in their chairs his shoulders were aching, as if a hundred tiny teeth were hooked in across his back. He had barely recovered his strength when the little brats began demanding to be let down and the whole process had to be gone through again. By the time Levi made it to the table Eren was already trying to liberate himself by climbing over the back of the chair. Levi held him by his ankles, dropping him on the carpet next to the damp patch. Eren emitted a shrill cry and twisted away, wriggling like an upended beetle. Levi lifted down the remaining children, each of whom felt like a sack of lead to his exhausted shoulders. It was with an audible sigh of relief that he set down the final child and fell back onto the floor without any definite intention of getting up again. Annie, who had been the last, jumped over him on her way to join Reiner and Bertoldt on their way to the garden. Levi heard a little shriek from Sasha who, recalling the fun they had all had the day before, suggested they all go outside to play together. Levi was forced to lie still as dozens of little legs passed over him, many sets of feet narrowly missing his ribs. He fixed his eyes on Eren, warily. Eren smirked at him, disappeared briefly from view and then reappeared with a yell as he hurtled overhead, landing heavily, and noisily, next to Levi’s ear. He couldn’t even be bothered to frown at him. He’d get him back some other time, remember and strike when he wasn’t expecting it. Levi pulled his phone out of his pocket, looking for a text, but there was nothing. Sighing, he got up to go keep watch in the garden.

“Ok, I think that’s enough of dodgeball.”  
Bertoldt was sobbing, Armin was cowering underneath the climbing frame with Connie and Sasha, and Jean was lying on his front groaning into the grass. Eren was grinning his usual maniac smile, a ball clutched in his hand, aimed at the prostrate Jean. Levi had only blanked out for a moment, and now there was this.  
“Eren, drop the ball.”  
Eren didn’t move.  
“Eren. Drop. It. Now.”  
Eren threw the ball from hand to hand, still looking at Jean with a contemplative expression. It was promptly wiped off of his face by another ball colliding with his nose. Annie stood looking sourly at Eren, now clutching his face and howling in a manner fit for a melodrama. Levi didn’t like to commend unnecessary violence, but he conceded that in Eren’s case this principle didn’t really apply. Levi stepped over and plucked the ball from Eren’s distracted grasp before he recovered sufficiently to lob it at Annie.  
“Unfortunately Annie, as good a throw as that was, I did just call time out on this game, so let’s say ten minutes in the Quiet Room and call it quits…”  
As Levi was speaking Mikasa stole out from somewhere, dashed and leapt. She grasped the ball, tearing it from Levi’s grip and, all in the same motion, launched it in Annie’s direction. The blow caught the little blonde on the forehead, and sent her stumbling backwards.  
Levi sighed. “Thank you Mikasa…Are there anymore last minute acts of vengeance? Reiner, you’re not hiding anything there are you?”  
The boy sullenly deposited a tennis ball on the lawn, giving the weeping Bertoldt a slight hug, seemingly as an apology.  
“Jean? What about you?”  
Jean just groaned.  
“Ok, fair enough. So, Mikasa and Annie, that’s ten minutes each. If I have to break up any fights there will be trouble. Off you go.”  
The two girls marched off indoors with their heads held high until they stepped foot in the kitchen when they immediately started sticking their tongues out at each other and trying to pull each other’s hair.  
“Ok Jean, I highly doubt it’s fatal,” said Levi, turning his attention to the boy who was still lying on the grass.  
“It really hurts,” Jean whined, raising his head slightly. Eren was still howling, but Levi was ignoring him.  
“Let’s see. There’s hardly even a bruise, look. Come on, get off the grass before the ants decide you’re food.”  
Jean rose begrudgingly, still trying to locate a bruise with which to garner sympathy. Levi felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He read the text. Christa was being kept in hospital, she had some sort of infection which Erwin hadn’t even attempted to text the name of, Ymir had been persuaded to leave and Erwin was dropping her off at her home and then coming back.  
“Eren, be quiet. Anyone would think you were being eaten alive or something.”

Levi looked at the clock, imagining that the ten minutes had gone and it would now be about time to remove the bodies. He found them, as he had more or less expected, on different sides of the room standing like angry cats. He half expected them to start hissing at each other. Once turned loose Mikasa went immediately to Eren, and begin pawing at him in a rather maternal manner. Annie, on the other hand, slunk off and went to play on her own. Jean was still sulking in the corner, glowering periodically at everyone in the room. Levi was mildly impressed at how little the expression changed. He tore out a piece of paper from the address book, balled it up tightly and threw it in Jean’s direction, hitting him lightly on the head. The sour expression slid out of view, replaced by a look of shock. So concentrated was the fury Jean had, at that moment, been directing at Eren that he had not noticed the small paper missile being launched at him from Levi’s direction. He continued to look perplexed, staring up at that ceiling once or twice, before he gave up and found something to do.

He’d expected him home by now. Another hour or so and children would start leaving, and still Erwin hadn’t appeared. Levi tried looking up Ymir’s address, and found that they hadn’t written it down. There was a contact number, but no address. Levi shut the book, feeling irritated. He checked his phone, and then checked it again a few minutes later. Not a word from Erwin. In his head Levi calculated roughly how long he planned to stay annoyed with Erwin and added an extra hour.

He turned up, eventually, at five o’clock. Levi fixed him with a stare, his arms folded.  
“Jeez, how far away does she live?”  
“Pretty far, as it turns out,” said Erwin, almost tripping over Armin as he walked into the playroom. “I would have texted you, but my phone was out of battery.”  
“She lives two hours away? Really?”  
Erwin shrugged, “Seems so.”  
It seemed odd, but they got paid to look after Ymir and Levi wasn’t going to argue with the necessary. Parents knocked at the door, and children departed one by one. Jean burrowed down in the beanbag once again, evidently deriving some sort of emotional support from burying himself in its fuzzy folds. He did not have cause to extract himself from his nest until quarter past six, when his father arrived. 

Levi made Erwin cook dinner, as partial repayment for the strain of leaving him in sole charge of a horde of infantine horrors without even the comfort of having his beloved partner a mere phone call away. Erwin had the distinct impression that he would be paying for this blunder for weeks to come. Levi made no move to convince him otherwise.


	7. Germs and Glitter

Instead of the shrill, artificial squall of an alarm clock Levi instead awoke to a short, sharp sound and a damp, misty sensation all over his face. It took him roughly three seconds to work out exactly what had happened. As the realisation that he had just been sneezed on by his beloved sunk in Levi opened one eye and propelled himself off of the bed as if all the devils in hell were after him. Unfortunately for Erwin, Levi was in his usual sleeping position. As he slid leisurely over the edge of the bed, a casualty of Levi’s sudden departure, he did so with what was soon to be a heel shaped bruise near his crotch. Erwin groaned, while from the bathroom came a vaguely hysterical cry of “Unclean!”.  
“Levi, think ‘m sick,” said Erwin, breathing with difficulty through the throatful of phlegm which was edging, like a glacier, through his airways.  
“Stay where you are!” shouted Levi, over the sound of running water.  
“I’m on the floor. Why am I on the floor?”  
“What the hell are you doing on the floor?”  
“Think you pushed me or something…I’m alright.”  
“No, you’re not. Right now you’re swarming, teeming, with bacteria and you are not stepping a foot outside of this room until that fact changes.”  
“I kinda like it when you’re bossy like this.”  
“You really are ill aren’t you…” Levi emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of acrid smelling, sanitised scent. He looked down at Erwin with an expression which was either concern, or a trick of the light.

By the time Levi went downstairs to eat breakfast the bedroom resembled a hospital room, particularly on the olfactory front. Erwin lay in a medicated stupor and Levi had a mask hanging on the door, so he could put it on as soon as he stepped into the room. He still couldn’t shake the unpleasant sensation, however, that somewhere, on the edge of a sleeve or on a patch of skin, there could already be hundreds of thousands of germs sitting there, waiting for their chance. It took effort not to turn around and run back upstairs back to the shower, to soap and safety. Levi was in the middle of eating when the doorbell rang, and made a hurried attempt to swipe toast crumbs off his top before going to answer it.  
“Hi, I hope I’m not too early. My job starts at half seven, I think I forgot to warn you before…” Marco’s mother stood on the doorstep, her hair tied back neatly with a broad smile on her face. Marco was hiding behind her legs, peering round shyly at Levi. His mother looked down at him, smiled, and gave him a gentle nudge.  
“Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask Levi?” she said softly, patting his head gently.  
The freckled boy had a hand pressed up to his mouth and moved closer to his mother. He seemed a little more hesitant than before.  
“Is J-Jean going to be here today?” he said at last, quietly.  
“He should be, later on.”  
Marco beamed and nodded. His smile looked a lot like his mother’s. He detached himself from his mother without much difficulty.  
“I’ll be here about half five to pick him up,” she said, swooping down to give Marco a goodbye kiss. She gave a final wave, and then she was gone.  
Levi looked down at Marco. The few of the kids who came on a Saturday wouldn’t be there for another hour or so. Marco looked back at him.  
“Well, go play then,” Levi muttered. His voice sounded rather more gravelly this morning. Marco turned and bounced, in that energetic, child-like manner, into the playroom and began looking through the boxes of toys. Levi watched him from the kitchen as he cleaned away the breakfast things and put on some toast to take up to Erwin. Marco seemed quite content on his own, all the time Levi watched him that placid little smile never left his face for an instant. It was odd, almost eerie. Levi wasn’t quite sure what it was about the freckled child which bothered him, but all the same there was something. Just as these thoughts were drifting through Levi’s mind Marco looked up at him. Also, at exactly the same moment, the toast in the toaster popped up. Levi jumped, scowling the second afterwards in annoyance. Marco turned back round.  
“Are you dead yet?”  
There was a groan which might have been taken from the background of a zombie movie.  
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then. Do you want something to eat?”  
“Not especially, but I guess I should,” Erwin grumbled, his speech somewhat slurred from a combination of drugs and sickness. Levi, wearing his mask and gloves and looking like he was on his way to dismember a corpse, placed the plate of toast, and a mug of tea on the bedside table. Erwin took a swig from the mug, but only glanced at the toast.  
“…heard the doorbell earlier.”  
“Marco, the freckled new kid. Looks like we’ll have to get up earlier on Saturdays from now on.”  
Erwin groaned, though it may have been unrelated to the previous statement, and sunk back against the pillows, which Levi had stacked behind his head.  
“Is it going to be alright with just you…?”  
“What do you mean?”  
Erwin paused to cough for a few minutes. “I mean,” he rasped, “maybe you should call Hange or Petra and ask them to –” he broke off into another coughing fit. Levi waited until it had subsided before he answered.  
“Seems kind of pointless. There’s only going to be a couple of kids anyway. Maybe if you’re still sick on Monday I’ll ask Petra, but otherwise I don’t see the point.”  
“Levi,” Erwin said, in a voice which sounded as if it had slipped through some crack in an ancient tomb, “just remember, about counting to ten and –”  
“I do not have an anger issue. It’s an intolerance to stupidity. Besides, Jaeger’s not here today.”  
Erwin coughed in response.  
“I’m going back downstairs to check on the new kid. Shout if you need anything, otherwise try and die quietly.”  
Erwin made a sound somewhere between a laugh and another groan.

Back downstairs Marco was in almost exactly the same spot he’d been in before. If Levi had left any of the other children alone downstairs he’d be sure to come back to tears, bloody noses and pilfered food supplies, but Marco was sat there serenely. Levi glanced around the room to make sure nothing was amiss, but all seemed to be as he had left it.  
“What time is Jean get-getting here?” he asked.   
“About another hour I guess.”  
Marco glanced at the clock. “How many,” he waved his hand in a rough circle as he searched for the word, “minutes. How many minutes is that?”  
“Sixty.”  
“That’s a really long time,” Marco murmured, and the smile faded slightly as he sighed. “But it’s not as long as forever. That’s a really really long time.”  
“It is.”  
Marco smiled as if Levi had just praised him for something. Getting up he plodded over to the beanbag where he and Jean had sat, and where Jean tended to curl up when he was upset. He pulled out one of the books from the little bookcase and began flicking through it. Every so often, about once a minute, he looked up at the clock.

After about thirty of these cycles Bertoldt and Reiner arrived on the doorstep. Marco had looked hopefully towards the door when the doorbell rang and, even when the door opened and his hopes were proved false, he still smiled at the newcomers. When Levi next looked round the trio were sitting together, and Marco seemed to be getting along fine with the other two boys. Bertoldt was sticking close by Reiner, trying, with some success, to hide behind him. He was usually shy with strangers, and it would likely take a while for him to be able to talk to Marco, even with Reiner there. Levi wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, unable to make much sense of the childish babble. And then the doorbell rang for a second time. Jean stood there with his mother.  
It was like a scene from a film, without the slow-motion and the soundtrack. Both children collided with one another in the middle of the room, hitting each other with such force that they fell over giggling onto a beanbag.  
“Goodness,” said Mrs Kirstein, with a smile, “seems you made a friend Jean.”   
Jean paid no further attention to his mother, chattering frantically to Marco. Levi shrugged.  
“Well, it’s good that he’s getting along with someone now,” said Mrs Kirstein. A small figure pushed past her leg.  
“Is Christa here today?” It may have been a question, but it sounded much more like a command.  
“No, Ymir. As far as I know she’s still sick.”  
Ymir’s shoulders dropped a little. She folded her arms and went and sat in the playroom, staring out the window in an effort to look occupied.

Levi came downstairs from another visit to the invalid and felt his jaw drop ever so slightly.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Building,” Jean answered, grinning.   
In the centre of the room, and indeed taking up most of the floor space, was a gigantic tower constructed from all of the wooden building blocks Levi and Erwin’s house possessed. At that moment Bertoldt, on Reiner’s shoulders, was placing the final block. It was somewhat disconcerting for Levi to be faced by something, built by children, which was taller than him. Marco and Annie, who had been the final child to arrive, appeared from behind the tower, looking rather pleased with themselves. Ymir was standing nearby, looking at Bertoldt and Reiner trying to reach the peak of the tower. Levi was sure he had only been gone for about ten minutes, within earshot in any case. If he had heard the clatter of bricks he would have come running, but he had heard nothing. Carefully, the final block was placed, and Bertoldt returned, rather happily, to ground level. Levi was still looking at the thing in bewilderment.  
“How?”  
“We worked together,” said Annie, fiddling with a piece of blonde hair.  
“It was Jean’s idea,” said Marco, beaming happily, “I asked everyone to help.”  
Jean was looking at the tower with an expression almost of awe, along with the other children, as if they had been responsible for the building of a second Stonehenge.  
“Well, unfortunately you’re going to have to take it down before lunch.”  
There was a universal protest, with great quantities of pleading.  
“It can’t stay there indefinitely,” muttered Levi.  
“Can’t it stay for a little while? Only a little?”  
“Until we go home?”  
“Until the others see it?”  
Levi did not particularly like the idea of having a precarious construction of brightly coloured building blocks in his front room until Monday, so he proposed a compromise.  
“We can take a picture of it, and then everyone can see it, but only if it comes down before lunch.”  
Several sour expressions greeted his eye, and the little group conferred for a few moments before reluctantly agreeing. Levi went and got the camera, and had to take multiple pictures before he got one which was acceptable to the increasingly demanding builder’s union which had formed.  
“Ok, now it comes down. And do not just knock it down so the blocks go everywhere, take it apart carefully.”  
Despite this warning, Levi emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later to the sound of destruction, as the mid-section of the tower tumbled to the floor. Bertoldt was still on Reiner’s shoulders, looking incredibly panicked, while the other kids were hunched down, flinching from the sound.  
“Pick them all up,” Levi said, despairing to say anything else.

By the time lunch was on the table only a few stray blocks remained to be picked up. Marco hurriedly ran round, picking them all up and putting them in the correct boxes, before venturing near the table. Levi lifted them all into their places, relieved he only had to deal with this small number for today. There were no food fights, and no arguments. All was peaceful, except for the sounds of crunching, chewing and swallowing.  
“Can I make something after lunch?” Ymir asked, tapping her feet on the chair legs.  
“Depends what it is?”  
“Something for Christa. I need the glue and glitter.”  
Levi visibly shuddered, like a vampire recoiling from the name of Christ.  
“I’m making a crown. So I need paper, and glue and stuff.” Ymir shrugged, apparently oblivious to Levi’s reactions. “So, can I?”  
“Do I have a choice?”  
“Not really.”  
“Ok, I’ll put out the newspaper after everyone’s finished eating. Please try not to get it everywhere.”  
Ymir made no promises.

When the plates were removed Levi covered the table in newspaper. He hoped it would be protection enough, or if the carpet would be sparkling for weeks. He found the accursed substance, along with the glue, hidden on a high shelf (he had to get a chair to reach), where none were supposed to know of its existence. He put them on the table, along with the coloured sugar paper and the plastic safety scissors. Levi considered begging her again to abandon the project, but, as it was to Christa’s benefit, he doubted she would listen. He saw Annie wandering over and ushered everyone out into the garden, before it became too much for him to bear. One child with scissors and glue he could cope with, six would be enough to send him to an early grave.  
“Why don’t you all go play on the trampoline or something?”  
“I want to use the shiny stuff, the glittery stuff!”  
“No, Annie, you don’t. Go on, go play.”  
Annie narrowed her eyes at him, but she relented. Bertoldt and Reiner were making good use of the opportunity to use the climbing frame without having to fight for the privilege. Annie went to the swings, while Jean and Marco ended up on the trampoline, with Jean trying to show Marco how to do a forward roll.

When not knowing became more unpleasant than the thought of facing what was going on in the playroom, Levi went back to check on Ymir. She was snarling, trying to manoeuvre the blunted plastic scissors around the outline she had drawn without tearing the paper. Levi saw several discarded sheets lying further afield on the table, where the scissors had proved the undoing of Ymir’s hard work.  
“Don’t you have any real scissors?” she snapped, “I’m seven, I know not to do something stupid like trying to saw my own fingers off.”  
“I’m not trusting you with anything sharper than your own tongue.”  
“Fine then, you do it for me.” Her hand moved towards one of the tubes of glitter with an air of threat. Reluctantly Levi got the scissors from the kitchen and cut out Ymir’s neatly drawn crown just as she had drawn it, with all fiddly bits included, and laid it on the table in front of her. She picked up the glue, squeezing the bottle, getting glue between her fingers, all over her hands and the paper in great globules. The glue was ancient, practically fossilised, and was exceedingly hard to extract from inside the bottle. After the initial splatter Ymir had to exert all her strength to get even the smallest amount onto the paper. She hissed something between her teeth, something generally considered unwholesome for a little girl to know, and unscrewed the cap. Levi could hardly help but watch, as the eyes are invariably drawn to the scenes of car crashes, as she scooped desiccated glue from out of the bottle with her fingers, and smeared it over the paper. It was already drying, and her hand looked like some sort of budget Halloween decoration. She picked up the glitter.  
“Do you really want to stay for this?” she said, casting him a look which seemed far beyond her years. She even had one eyebrow raised ever so subtly. Levi scowled, but considered it was probably a good idea. As he turned around though, he could hear it; the cascading sound as all of those insidious little particles leapt across the table, relatively few actually sticking to the glue. He forced himself not to look back, and went onto into the garden, drawing the fresh air into his lungs and trying not to think about glitter getting trapped in the carpet.

Ymir was still working on Christa’s crown when people starting leaving. On a Saturday most of the children were picked up a few hours earlier. Jean looked almost as miserable when his mother arrived on time, as he did when his father was late. He hugged Marco and seemed intent on bringing him home with him until Levi and Mrs Kirstein managed to convince him otherwise.  
“You’ll see him all next week Jean,” Levi muttered, as he tried to separate them. Bertoldt and Reiner stood nearby, the latter was shaking his head.  
By five it was just Ymir and Marco left. Ymir was still working diligently on the crown, scraping swirls into it, laying down more glitter, creating messy clumps which were supposed, she said, to be jewels. To Levi’s relief Marco didn’t ask to be allowed to play with the glue and glitter too, but sat, playing quietly, as he had that morning.  
“Done!” Ymir cried, folding the band of the crown around and gluing it into place where it would be wearable. “It needs to dry though. If I leave it here you wouldn’t throw it away, would you?”  
“Of course not.”  
“Good. I’ll be going then.” She jumped down from the chair without aid, and headed towards the door, peeling glue absentmindedly from her hand.  
“Wait, is someone here to take you back?” asked Levi, recalling that Ymir’s home was several hours away. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Ymir skipped off to the door, opened it, and was gone. Levi looked back towards the table, at the garish creation, and grimaced. Marco looked at him worriedly.  
“Are you ok?”  
“Fine,” Levi muttered, starting to carefully gather up the sheets of newspaper, trying not to let the glitter spill.  
“I can help,” Marco said, jumping up and heading for the table. Levi considered the offer. On the one hand, he really didn’t want to have to deal with all this gluey, glittery mess, but on the other he didn’t want Marco dropping something by accident.  
“If you’re careful…”  
Marco nodded, taking the folded paper Levi handed him and holding it as delicately as if it contained a glass ornament of untold value. He followed Levi’s instructions, and dropped it in the bin. They were still clearing away the table when Marco’s mother arrived. Her hair had frizzed up around her face, and her eyelids drooped a little. She brightened up when she saw Marco however.  
“He wasn’t any trouble?” she said, lifting him up to hug him.  
“None,” Levi answered.  
“Good. Ok, Marco, Mummy needs to put you down again. There you go.” She hissed as she straightened up, rubbing part of his back a little. “Thanks for looking after him,” she said, smiling.  
“No problem Mrs Bodt.”  
An odd look flitted across her face for an instant. “Lucia, please.” She pronounced it in the Italian manner, the syllables passing easily across her tongue. Levi thought he heard something almost frosty there for an instant. “My family’s Italian, most of them still live there,” she explained, and the usual sunniness was back. Marco was looking at her, though his expression didn’t seem to show that anything unusual had happened.  
“Well, see you on Monday then, is the same time ok?” Lucia said, and she seemed a little nervous, or perhaps Levi was just watching a little too closely.  
“Same time’s fine. See you then.”  
She nodded, reaching down to squeeze Marco’s hand, and waved goodbye to Levi before hurrying back down the path onto the street.


	8. A Red Crayon Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a friendly warning, the fluff is starting to wear thin. Moderately sad stuff from here on in. I meant this to be purely a fluff work, but I kinda want to do more with it. There will still be fluff, just a little diluted.  
> Multiple death references!

Levi’s Sunday began pleasantly enough with the sounds of Erwin throwing up in their bathroom a few metres away.  
“You’re still ill?” Levi said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Erwin was a bit too preoccupied to respond.  
“I’ll call Petra today then to see if she’s free on Monday. I doubt you’ll be better by then either.”  
There was a brief pause in the bathroom, followed by several raspy breaths, and then the sound began again. Levi sighed, debating going into the bathroom but ultimately deciding against it. Erwin would probably rather puke his guts up in peace. Levi left him to it.

There was a clean patch on the carpet now, where Christa had initially thrown up, and it was starting to get on Levi’s nerves. Of course, if he was going to clean the whole carpet he had to make a proper job of it, and that meant moving all the furniture, including the table, out of the way. God only knew what was lurking under the table, mutating in the unseen depths, beyond that jungle of chair legs. Every so often Levi saw the twinkle of stray glitter, winking at him. It would be a difficult job, but it would keep him from boredom at any rate.

Erwin lay on the bed with an arm over his eyes.  
“You’re sure you don’t want anything?” Levi asked, pulling on a shirt.  
“No, I’m fine.”  
“Yeah, you look it,” Levi murmured, taking his phone off of the bedside table and trying to find Petra’s number. “Just go back to sleep.” He put the phone to his ear and went out of the room. The phone rang for almost a minute before someone picked up.  
“What is it?” Petra’s voice, usually so pleasant on the ear, slurred slightly.  
“Tell me you’re not ill as well…”  
“Levi? No, I went out last night. I may have had just a bit too much.”  
“Yeah, that cranberry and vodka sure is strong these days,” said Levi. Petra was a lightweight. The smell of alcohol alone was enough to get her giggling.  
“Quiet you,” hissed Petra, yawning loudly through the speaker. “Well, you called me for a reason I presume. What do you want?”  
“Your help. Can you help me out watching the kids on Monday? Erwin’s ill.”  
“Ill? Is he alright?” She sounded more alert now.  
“Well no. That’s kind of what being ill means. Anyway, can you help? Yes or no?”  
“Mmm, should be able to. You’ll owe me a favour though.”  
“I can live with that. Get here for eight.”  
And with that he hung up, and went to deal with the playroom carpet.

On Monday Erwin was a little better, meaning that Levi didn’t wake up to the sound of him throwing up. He was still clammy, sweaty and coughing periodically but said he felt alright. Levi didn’t believe him, and gave him some pills to swallow.  
Marco arrived somewhat closer to half seven than before, ushered in by his frazzled looking mother who nevertheless remembered to say goodbye to him before running down the path onto the street, narrowly avoiding chipping her front tooth on the gatepost.  
Marco looked up at Levi, waiting, Levi finally realised, for permission to go play. He gave it, and Marco scurried off to find something to occupy himself until the next child arrived. He didn’t have to wait that long for Bertoldt and Reiner to arrive. He scrambled to his feet, greeting the pair with enthusiasm, but not the same degree with which he welcomed Jean. Petra showed up in the midst of the arrivals, just ahead of Eren and his gang.  
“Good morning,” she said, hanging up her coat and bag and smiling sunnily over all. “Woah, Levi, you look a little pale. You sure you’re not coming down with something too?”  
Levi glared at her in response.  
“Kids, this is Petra,” Levi said, sweeping his hand somewhat apathetically in her direction. Petra waved at the children, most of whom simply stared as if she were some strange, exotically coloured bird which had suddenly appeared in their midst. A few, Marco and Armin included, mumbled shy, little hellos and waved back.  
“Aww, they’ll all so cute!” Petra said, laughing and evidently resisting the urge to swoop down and smother them all in hugs. Levi looked at her as if she were mad.  
“Give it a few hours…” he muttered.

Christa arrived on the doorstep looking pale and solemn. Levi watched her warily, before being shoved aside by Ymir. Without a word she launched herself at Christa, throwing her arms around her neck and firing off rapid inquiries about her health.  
“Oh yeah,” Ymir said, halting herself mid flow, “I’ve got a present for you, come see.”  
With wide eyes Christa was dragged into the playroom, as Ymir stopped in front of Levi and demanded where he’d put her crown. Levi grimaced, but got it for her anyway. When her eyes fell on the glitter covered thing Christa made a little trill of delight, almost the same ethereal species of sound as a singing glass.  
“It’s for me?” she squeaked, seemingly unable to believe that anyone would be so kind to her. Ymir grinned as she put it on, leaving errant shards of glitter in Christa’s hair. Levi watched, with an air of silent martyrdom, as glitter wafted down and stuck to Christa’s dress and the carpet. The little girl skipped merrily around the room, trailing glitter as she went. Ymir stood, watching with her hands on her hips, smiling proudly. She suddenly turned and jumped up at Levi. “Where’s that picture you took of the big tower we built? I want to show Christa.”  
Levi went to get the picture and it was passed around. He only just managed to dissuade them from recreating it, before finally pinning the picture up on the noticeboard in the hallway, where they could all see it.

Petra crouched on the carpet, trying in vain to keep up with the rapid stream of instructions issuing from Eren’s mouth. The new game he had devised was hellishly complex, completely comprehendible by him alone it seemed. Mikasa was still playing, dogged to the end, but Armin had given up and sat a little way off on his own. The floor around Eren was like a battlefield cast in mismatched plastic. Dolls, dinosaurs and zoo animals lay, having been locked mortal combat by Eren’s hand and released at his whim. Petra moved slightly, feeling a burning pain in the base of her spine. She got up and stretched, deciding to leave Eren to his simulated carnage. Looking round she caught sight of Levi, sitting with a small group in one of the corners. Somehow one of the children had convinced him to read to them, and a small pile of thin, brightly coloured storybooks lay by his foot. Petra could hear Levi, with all his typical gravity, affecting all the required voices and the children were rapt. Petra looked around and saw Armin peering at the group. Petra knelt beside him.  
“Do you want to go listen too?” she asked, smiling. Armin shrank back, like a shelled sea creature, but nodded eagerly. Petra took his hand and gently urged him toward the group in the corner. A boy with freckles whose name Petra didn’t know beckoned to Armin, inviting him to sit near him. The boy sitting beside the freckled child looked momentarily sullen, shuffling just a little bit closer.  
As Petra wandered over Levi glanced up with an icy expression, still continuing to read. Petra smiled at him, motioning that her lips were sealed. When Levi finished the story a cry at once went up for another. Sasha pushed a book with a caterpillar on the front cover into Levi’s hands and sat back down. With a sigh he opened up the book and the children all leaned in, looking at the picture.  
“In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf…”

When lunchtime came around Levi went upstairs to check on Erwin, leaving Petra to watch the kids downstairs. Christa was still wearing her crown, which thankfully no longer shed glitter with quite the same frequency as before. Petra was trying to learn everyone’s name.  
“Ok, so, Eren, Armin,” she said, working her way around the table. “Sasha, Connie, Jean, Marco, Bertoldt, Reiner…”  
The children were shaking their heads.  
“He’s Bertoldt, I’m Reiner.”  
“Sorry. Reiner, Bertoldt. Ok, um, Annie?”  
The little girl nodded gravely, as if responding to her name in a courtroom.  
“Ymir, Christa and Mikasa. That’s everyone right?”  
There were nods all around.  
“Great,” Petra said cheerily, perching on the arm of the sofa. There was a creak on the staircase as Levi returned from upstairs.  
“How is he?”  
“Alive,” Levi muttered, collapsing onto the sofa. “Yeah, he’s fine. A lot better than yesterday anyway. You getting on alright down here?”  
“Yup, I can remember everyone’s name now.”  
“But she got Bert and Reiner mixed up!” shouted Sasha, spitting crumbs over the tablecloth.  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full Sasha,” Levi said.  
“Why not?” said Sasha.  
“Because - the food might escape.”  
Sasha made a face. “No it won’t. You’re lying.”  
“I’m not. I’ve seen it happen before. You talk with your mouth full and little bits of food escape now and then. On their own, they’re nothing to worry about, but then sometimes they band together. Keep talking with your mouth full and before you know it you’ve got a food monster, and it’s angry, angry that it’s been denied its natural end purpose, so it comes back for revenge…”  
Sasha stared at him, wondering if he was bluffing or not. Deciding not to take the risk, she carefully covered her mouth and swallowed.  
“What sort of revenge?” asked Connie.  
“Oh, I can’t say. I don’t want to be told off by your parents for giving you all nightmares,” he affected a shudder. “It’s far too gruesome to tell to little kids like you.”  
Levi glanced at the table as every child swallowed in silence, their hands hovering over their mouths as if expecting the contents of their stomach to make a sudden break for freedom.  
Petra poked him in the side. “That’s mean,” she whispered. Levi just shrugged.

When lunch was over Levi and Petra set up the table with paper and crayons. Eren began scribbling away feverishly, while others were more hesitant. Sasha began drawing an enormous multi-coloured cake which, if it had actually existed, would probably have been almost toxic with additives. Mikasa started work on a trio of stick figures. Bertoldt and Reiner worked on the same piece of paper, one drawing and the other colouring. Marco looked round at Petra. “I don’t know what to draw.”  
“Hmm, what about a dog? Or a cat? Do you have a pet? You could draw that.”  
Marco shook his head. “Haven’t got one.”  
“Why don’t we ask Jean? Jean, can you think of something for Marco to draw?”  
Jean shrugged, pausing in his own attempt to depict someone with long, black hair.  
“Well,” said Petra, “what about a person? See, Jean’s drawing a person. You could draw a person too.”  
“Who?”  
“You could draw your Mummy or Daddy, and then when they come to pick you up you can show it to them.”  
There was a moment, but only a moment, when his placid expression seemed to slip and his eyes seemed to be seeing something differently, but it passed swifter than a shiver.  
“I’ll draw Mummy,” he said, turning back in his chair and reaching for a black crayon. Petra straightened up, somewhat unsettled. She heard Levi’s voice from the other end of the table.  
“Eren, what is that?”  
“It’s a giant, and it’s eating people. You’re there.”  
“Am I?” Levi murmured. “Oh, I see. I’m rather small, aren’t I? What am I doing?”  
“Trying to cut off the monster’s head. Petra’s in it too.”  
Hearing her name, Petra moved round to stand behind Eren. “I’m in it too? Where am I?”  
“By the tree…” said Eren, pointing to a lollipop-shaped symbol.  
“I wouldn’t look,” warned Levi.  
It was already too late. “Gosh, it’s very…colourful.”  
“Very red, I think you mean.”  
Eren was clutching the stub of a red crayon which had, less than an hour earlier, been in the prime of its life.  
“Eren, I don’t think you’ve got enough bodies for that amount of blood.”  
“It’s not finished. I’m putting everyone in it.”  
“Ah,” said Levi, choosing that moment to walk away to check on the other children. “I’ll be intrigued to see it when it’s finished.”  
Petra was not sure she could say the same, looking at the orange headed stick figure crumpled by the lollipop tree.  
“Mikasa! What are you drawing?” she said, turning to the dark-haired girl.  
“Me and Eren and Armin.”  
“Aww, that’s lovely. Everyone’s smiling!”  
Mikasa nodded, shrinking a little under the attention.  
“And Armin, what are you drawing? The beach?”  
Armin nodded. “Eren’s Mummy said she’d take us to the beach when it gets warmer, but it’s not warm enough yet.”  
“Do you like the beach then?”  
Armin nodded happily, turning back to his drawing to finish colouring in the sea.

“Eren, you can’t be looking for another red crayon?” Levi muttered.  
Eren shook his head. “No. Brown.”  
Marco, who had just finished using it, passed it down the table to Eren.  
“What do you say?”  
“Thank you Marco,” said Eren, not looking up as he sketched in a house shape in a clear space only faintly touched by red.  
Marco smiled, as if automatically, and picked up a peach-coloured crayon to use to colour in the lips and nose on his own drawing.  
“Are you not done?” said Jean, groaning slightly.  
“Nearly,” said Marco. “Ok, done now.”  
“Can we get down now? We’re done,” Jean said loudly, waving at Levi. He wandered over, lifting down Jean and then Marco.  
“I’ll put your pictures on the side in the kitchen, so they won’t get lost. You can come get them when you go home.”  
Jean and Marco nodded, sitting down on the carpet. One by one they were joined by the others, as everyone finished their pictures. Eren was the last, jumping down with his finished picture in his hand.  
“Look, we’re all in it!” cried Sasha, pointing to her own likeness. The other crowded round, waiting to be told where they were. Marco lingered near the back of the crowd, holding Jean’s hand.  
“Eren, where are we? Are we in it?” Jean asked.  
“Yeah. I said everyone was in it. Look.”  
Eren held it up and pointed somewhere near the bottom. “That’s you Jean,” he said, pointing to a carelessly coloured figure. His finger moved a little across the page, coming to a reddish splodge drawn against one of the houses. “And that’s Marco.”  
“Why’s he all red?”  
“Cus he’s dead.”  
“That’s not fair!” shouted Jean. Levi turned around, alerted by the angry timbre of the cry. He glanced down at Jean and Marco. His heart sunk slightly.  
“Marco…?”  
The freckled boy was pressing his fist tightly against one of his eyes. The other looked distinctly moist, and as Levi watched a fat tear rolled over his cheek, dropping off his chin. More followed. As Levi stepped forward Marco dropped Jean’s hand and ran out of the playroom, into the hallway. Several heads went round in meerkat fashion, wondering what the commotion was. Levi clapped a hand on Jean, trying to stop him from following Marco. Eren was stood there, looking a little taken aback by the reaction he had provoked.  
“Jean stay here.”  
“But he’s my friend,” Jean snapped, shooting a venomous glare in Eren’s direction.  
“Jean, I will deal with it. Now stay here.”  
Jean reluctantly went still, but then twisted around and kicked Eren in the shin. Petra had to try and hold Eren back from retaliating, while Levi fought to get a grip on Jean in order to pull him out of range of Eren. It took time to calm both of them down, and all the time Levi was worrying about where Marco had hidden himself. Sobbing children were usually loud, so the silence unnerved him.  
“Jean, the sooner you calm down the sooner I can go look after Marco,” Levi hissed in his ear.  
Eren was crying angrily by now, Petra trying to soothe him to no obvious effect. “It’s not my fault…” he mumbled.  
Jean winced, but slumped. Levi carried him towards the Quiet Room, hoping this was where Marco had gone. The door looked untouched, and when he opened it the room was indeed empty. There were no hiding places, and nothing looked like it had been moved. Levi dumped Jean down on a beanbag.  
“Alright, sit here and wait for me to come back. You know you shouldn’t kick people.”  
“He deserved it,” hissed Jean.  
“I don’t think he did,” Levi muttered, leaving the room with a final warning for Jean to stay put. 

Midway up the stairs Levi detected the sound of voices coming from the landing. He reached the top step and saw Marco and Erwin sitting on the carpet, leaning against the wall. Erwin was talking gently to Marco, who was shuddering with tears. When he looked up his face was damp, his eyes misted, and his nose running. Erwin looked across at Levi and smiled softly.  
“I’ll go get him some tissues,” he mumbled, getting up as Levi crouched down in front of Marco.  
“You’ve got Jean really worried about you, you know?”  
“Sorry,” Marco mumbled, rubbing his eyes and suppressing another sob. Erwin came back with a thick wodge of tissues, a few of which he handed to Marco. He sat down again, crossing his legs.  
“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Marco mumbled miserably, managing to get the words out between tremulous sobs. Erwin ruffled his hair.  
“Don’t worry about it. Now, can you tell me what happened?”  
Marco swallowed thickly, his shoulders heaving again. He shook his head. Erwin glanced at Levi quizzically.  
“Jaeger,” Levi mouthed. Erwin nodded.  
“You ok if I leave him with you for a minute? I left Petra on her own with the rest of them.”  
“Fine. You could send Jean up? Marco, do you want to see Jean?” Erwin said, looking down at Marco. The boy nodded, rubbing violently at his nose.

Jean scampered up the stairs, almost tripping at least once. Levi watched him run up and give Marco a hug, pinning his arms to his side. Erwin was still sat there, keeping an eye on them. Levi ducked back downstairs, finding Petra handling Eren easily enough. He wasn’t crying anymore, and asked after Marco.  
“I didn’t mean to make him cry,” he said urgently.  
“I believe you,” Levi said with a sigh, falling onto the sofa.  
“Where is he?” Petra asked.  
“Upstairs landing with Erwin, Jean too. I don’t know what all that was about. He’s usually calm and easy to deal with, but we’ve only had him here a couple of days, so I don’t know.”  
The rest of the children were huddled anxiously in the middle of the room, seemingly uncertain what to do with themselves. For want of anything better, Levi switched on the television and gradually they settled down to watch that. Eren gingerly handed Levi a tightly folded scrap of paper; the drawing he had done.  
“Can you keep this?” he mumbled, kicking the carpet with his toe. Levi nodded, slipping the paper into his pocket. “Will you want it back?”  
Eren shook his head.

With surprising stealth Jean emerged behind the sofa. He tugged on Levi’s sleeve. With much mumbling, and ‘ums’ and ‘errs’ he said he had come to apologise to Eren.  
“Well, unless I’m much mistaken, I’m not Eren.”  
Jean sighed and made an incomprehensible gesture.  
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t punch you, if that’s what you want.”  
Jean nodded, and Levi called Eren over.  
“Jean has something he wants to say to you.”  
With far less hesitation and awkwardness than Levi had been expecting, Jean said it. “I’m sorry I kicked you Eren.”  
Eren blinked. Jean nodded and turned back to Levi.  
“Please can Marco have a drink? Erwin told me to tell you.”  
“Alright,” Levi said, getting up. “Hang on, you can help me carry stuff upstairs.”

Levi went into the kitchen, checking the location of the biscuit jar to ensure Sasha hadn’t gotten to it when his back was turned. He reached down two plastic cups, pouring orange squash into both and then filling them with water. He grabbed a small plate and a handful of biscuits. He handed this to Jean.  
“Make sure Sasha doesn’t spot you.”  
Jean nodded, putting the plate behind his back.

They made it upstairs without Sasha picking up the scent of sugar. Marco wasn’t crying anymore, though his eyes were red, and he was grinning at whatever Erwin was telling him.  
“Thank you!” he said, when Levi handed him the drink and put down the biscuits. Levi handed the other cup to Jean.  
“Don’t spill it, or you don’t want to know what’ll happen.”  
Jean promised not to and sipped the squash.  
“How about you? Do you want anything?” Levi asked Erwin, nibbling one of the plain biscuits.  
“A cup of tea and a sandwich wouldn’t go amiss.”  
“Fine. Try not to get crumbs on the carpet.”

Four o’clock came around and children began leaving. Jean and Marco remained upstairs. Levi turned to Petra. “You can leave about half five if you want to. Most of them are gone by then.”  
“Don’t I get a thanks for all my hard work,” Petra said, prodding his arm.  
“What? Do I have to pay you in praise or something?”  
“Well, since you aren’t paying me and I’m doing this out of the saintly goodness of my heart, yeah!”  
“Thank you Petra for all your hard work.”  
“Aww, no problem. It’s been a pleasure. I still think they’re all adorable by the way,” said Petra, waving goodbye to Annie.  
“Don’t tell me you want your own. Aren’t you a bit young?”  
“Not you too. Dad’s always like that. When I got that bar job he was like ‘are you sure you’re not a bit young for work like that.’ I mean, really.”  
“Petra, you pass out on WKD. I’m surprised you kept that job so long.”  
“Hey! I worked there, I didn’t drink on the job…”  
“With your alcohol tolerance you wouldn’t have to. Just being in proximity to the stuff is enough.”  
She jumped up and hit him with the cushion. He retaliated in kind, picking up another cushion. The remaining children hopped up onto the sofa, the majority cheering on Petra.  
“The face! Get him in the face!” cried Eren loudly.  
Levi darted forward and grabbed Petra’s cushion from her hand. Before she was forced to admit defeat however Mikasa launched a second cushion at her, for her to grab. Levi smirked, and aimed for her ankles. The fight was disrupted a few seconds later when the doorbell rang and Kalura arrived to take her son, adoptive daughter and Armin home. That left four children downstairs, plus Jean and Marco upstairs. Time moved on. Christa removed her crown before she left, allowing Levi to put it somewhere safe. Ymir left shortly after.

At quarter to six Lucia arrived, out of breath.  
“Sorry…” she gasped, “…it’s been one of those days.”  
Levi hesitated, wondering how to broach the subject of Marco’s odd behaviour. He supposed it was better to be frank. He invited Lucia in, saying he’d go get Marco in a minute.  
“I had something to tell you first,”  
Lucia pressed her lips together, one hand tightening on the strap of her bag. “What happened?”  
“Something small. Another boy was drawing gory pictures and Marco got a bit upset. He’s fine now, I was just a bit surprised.”  
“Oh,” Lucia breathed out deeply. “I guess I need to speak to you then. Where is Marco right now?”  
As she spoke Levi heard several feet on the stairs. Marco jumped into view, closely followed by Jean. Marco went straight to his mother, wrapping his arms around her legs.  
“Aw, does Marco have to go now?” Jean said mournfully.  
“Well, I suppose not,” Lucia murmured, a little distracted.  
“Jean’s father doesn’t usually get here until later anyway,” Levi pointed out.  
“Can we go play in the garden then?”  
“Sure, it’s not dark out there yet,” Levi answered, following after the two children. Lucia followed him into the kitchen. They sat at the table, able to see the children through the window. Lucia turned her head in that direction, following Marco and Jean’s movements with her eyes. She folded her arms, leaned forward and exhaled.  
“I suppose I should have said something before, but I’ve had to tell the story so many times it feels like I’m just running a recording every time. Like I have to stop, press play and then go on. Anyway…” She ran a hand through her hair, put her knuckles under her chin, leant on her elbow. She shifted again, sitting back in the chair. Levi waited for her to speak.  
“A little over a year ago, Marco’s father died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again if you were reading for the fluffy feels, hopefully you'll stick around. Sorry about the sort of cliffhanger. Thought the chapter would be a bit too long if I included the backstory as well.   
> Comments always appreciated!


	9. Cake to be Determined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry this took so long. Work kinda killed my enthusiasm for writing. Will try to be swifter in future.

“What’ve you got?” Marco peered at Jean’s cupped hands.  
Jean opened his hands with a grin, showing a little scarlet coloured beetle with black spots. “It’s a ladybird,” he said. Marco tried to count the spots, but the beetle crawled up Jean’s thumb and flew off before he could finish.   
“It’s gone,” he mumbled.  
“Let’s find another one!” said Jean, pointing towards the shrub where he had found it. “Come on.”  
Marco followed, but cast a glance towards the kitchen window, where he could see the light shining in the room. He turned his head away, back to the garden and back to Jean, laughing as he ran after him.

“It was last spring Lukas died. Car accident.” Lucia breathed out, pushing hair behind her ears, unable to keep her hands still. “Shouldn’t have been fatal, they told me, but things happen. Couple of centimetres difference, couple of seconds, they said. He was only a few streets away when it happened. It wasn’t as if he was late, he wasn’t rushing for anything,” she shrugged, folding her arms tightly, trapping her hands. “We got to the hospital – to see him go.”  
Levi didn’t say anything, sensing that interruption was not what she wanted. One hand slid free. She re-tucked her hair behind her ear, tapped the table.  
“It took me a while to wake up, afterwards. I’d known Lukas all my life, we’d been friends from the cradle almost.” She smiled, warmth suffusing her face, untroubled by pain for a few moments before it crumpled. She breathed out through her nose. Part of him wanted to tell her to stop, but if she didn’t want to talk she wouldn’t.  
“I gave up. For a few weeks, I just gave up. Marco wasn’t enough – I know it’s not right, me saying that. A child should be the centre, the reason for trying harder, and it wasn’t his fault, it was me and what I couldn’t do. His grandmother, Lukas’s mother, looked after him for a while, but she was old, getting frail – it was too much to ask of her. I had to take him back and somehow,” she shrugged again and itched at her wrist, “we managed.”  
He could tell she was done by the way her nervous movements ceased, as if it was a part, or a costume which, now used, she had discarded or put away. Her hands were pressed to the table, no longer twitching and fiddling with hair and skin. She smiled, and something about the way it snagged, as if thin threads held it down, made it clear the costume was never completely gone.

At six-forty Levi stepped outside and called to tell Jean his father was there to pick him up.  
“Ok!” Jean yelled back, and he and Marco ran inside. Marco’s mother was still sat at the kitchen table, sipping at a mug of tea.  
“Bye-bye Marco,” said Jean, grinning. He wrapped his arms around Marco and hugged him tightly. His father made a noise of impatience, muttering about the time. Jean let go of his friend and headed for the door. “See ya tomorrow!”  
When they were gone Marco ran back to his mother. She lifted him onto her knee, stroking his hair lightly.  
“We should probably get going too,” she murmured, draining the rest of the tea. “Thanks a lot,” she said to Levi, smiling warmly. It seemed somewhat subdued however, from before.  
“No problem,” Levi shrugged. Lucia lifted Marco up into her arms as she got up.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said, her shoulders shrugging a little awkwardly. Levi followed her to the door.

Later, Levi told Erwin everything he had heard. Erwin rubbed his face with his hand.  
“I thought it would be something like this. I had a feeling,” he said. Levi folded his arms, sitting on the side of the bed and staring at the wall.  
“Poor kid,” he muttered eventually, starting to get undressed for bed. Erwin hummed in agreement.  
“How are you feeling by the way?” Levi asked, once he’d settled into his usual sleeping position.  
“Seaworthy I think. I feel completely fine at the moment actually.”   
Levi didn’t answer, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes before shutting his eyes. Where his leg was resting he could just about feel Erwin breathing in and out, could tell by the rhythm he wasn’t asleep.  
“Are you thinking about your dad?”  
Instead of words all Levi heard was a sigh; a short, sharp kind of sound like someone pressing on a bruise. He turned his head slightly, able to see little more than the outline of Erwin’s nose in the fresh dark of the room. Levi thought for a moment and then sat up sharply and rolled over. It was supposed to be a single, graceful motion but, in the dark, Levi slightly overestimated the distance. Only Erwin’s intervention saved him from rolling off of him and onto the floor.  
“What was that?” Erwin said, a laugh half-hidden in his throat, his hands wrapped around Levi’s shoulders.  
“Shut up,” Levi said, leaning down and kissing Erwin once.

Levi stifled a yawn the following morning at breakfast. Erwin raised an eyebrow. “Not enough sleep last night?”  
Levi glowered at him with a look fit to make dogs cower or babies cry. Erwin smirked ever so slightly, hiding the expression behind one hand. The doorbell rang.  
“You get it,” Levi muttered, “I’ve had to deal with all this crap on my own for the last few days.” He leaned back in his chair, his feet resting on the edge of the table. Erwin rose and went to open the door, welcoming Marco into the house. The door shut again. Levi looked out and saw Marco standing in the playroom. He looked no different from yesterday, and yet it seemed to Levi that he should. He found himself watching every movement and expression and looking for some telltale sign or sense of death. He stopped once he realised what he was doing.  
“How was she?” he mumbled to Erwin when he walked within speaking range once more.  
“Stressed I think,” Erwin said as he sat down, picking up a mug of coffee.  
Levi shrugged, watching Marco play by himself in the other room.

Jean and Marco greeted each other like always, managing to stay upright this time. Mrs Kirstein smiled down at the pair. “I shall have to get a hold of your mother, see if we can’t organise a playdate sometime soon.”  
Jean nodded until he almost fell over from dizziness. Marco stood shyly, nudging the carpet with his big toe. Jean’s mother looked across at Erwin and asked what time Marco’s mother usually came to collect him. When told that she usually arrived around half five or slightly later she frowned a little. Erwin promised to pass on the message anyway.  
In the middle of the room Jean and Marco sat down next to Eren, Mikasa and Armin. A faintly sheepish expression hung on Eren’s face, but it receded by degrees as the group chattered away together. Levi, upon noticing what was going on, blinked and frowned. He looked at Erwin.  
“Am I seeing that right? That is Jean and Eren…sitting within spitting distance of one another and not –”  
“Spitting at each other?” Erwin finished. Levi nodded. “Yes, it is,” Erwin said, leaning on the arm of the sofa and smiling. Marco looked up and waved at him. Levi rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, this is too weird. I’m going to go keep an eye on the garden. Call me if they start being normal again.”

Out in the garden things were more typical. Christa and Ymir were together, Christa wearing her paper crown, on the climbing frame. Bertoldt, Reiner and Annie were on the swings, and Connie and Sasha were mucking about on the grass doing handstands. Levi eyed with distaste the green stains all over their hands and their clothes. He listened to the frame of the swing groaning and screeching, watching it warily as it continued to bear the weight currently imposed on it. Annie was already swinging high above the level of the fence. Levi found himself idly calculating where exactly she might land if she happened to let go. A few seconds later she did, though at a lower point of the swing’s arc so she flew only a small distance. For a few moments it looked like she’d stick the landing, but she overbalanced at the last moment, falling onto her backside in the dirt. Bertoldt brought himself to a halt, kicking up more dust as he stuck his heels into the ground, and leapt to see if Annie was ok. The blonde girl raised herself up and Levi saw the state she’d made of the back of her trousers, turning the navy fabric beige. The state of her clothes aside, she seemed fine, turning and giving Bert a brief thumbs-up. The tall, clumsy child blinked, and hugged her anyway. Reiner watched them from the remaining swing, still swaying back and forth. Then he too jumped, smacking into the other two and taken the hug in a ground-ward direction. Levi sighed and watched as they righted themselves, Bertoldt giggling nervously, Reiner grabbing hold of his hand and Annie glowering at the sky as if it had just up and spat in her eye. She got up, again, dusted herself down and went to go do somersaults on the trampoline.

Sasha nudged Marco gently in the ribs.  
“Hey, hey, you gonna eat that?” she said, pointing to the sandwich still sitting on his plate. “Can I have it?”  
Marco smiled, Jean leaned across and flicked a piece of biscuit at Sasha’s face.  
“Stop being a pig Sasha,” he said, sticking out his tongue. Sasha didn’t hear him, she was pining for the biscuit piece which had evaded her grasp and had fallen, just out of reach, on the carpet.  
“Did you drop something?” Levi asked, peering at the floor and praying it hadn’t stained. He had only just cleaned the bloody thing.  
“Biscuit…” Sasha whined, in tones better suited to a tragic actress calling for her doomed loved than a small girl scrabbling to reach a scrap of food.  
“Where? I don’t see anything.”  
“There! There!” Sasha stabbed a finger at the carpet.  
“I think you’re going to have to give it up Sasha. The ten second window has passed.” Levi was not particularly eager to get down on his knees among the chair legs looking for a stray biscuit.  
Sasha let out a thin wail of despair, as if a beloved pet had just expired in her arms. Levi stepped back with folded arms, unmoved. Sasha puffed out her cheeks with discontent. She looked like a hamster.  
“Sasha, it’s gone,” said Levi, shrugging and flopping back onto the sofa. There was another whine. “Sasha, the biscuit is dead!”  
Sasha’s face hit the table. “Awww.”  
“Mourn away Sasha, you’re not eating stuff off the floor.”  
Sasha sniffed, until Marco tapped her on the arm and presented her with the sandwich she had coveted. She clasped his hand, slightly squishing the contents of the sandwich.  
“Thank you Marco! You’re so nice.”  
Marco shrugged, smiling a little awkwardly. Sasha folded the sandwich into her mouth and snapped it shut. She swallowed, sighing with the contentment of a full stomach.  
“Everyone done?” Levi asked, getting up somewhat reluctantly and seeing that most of the plates were empty. A dozen heads nodded, a dozen voices hummed an affirmative. Levi felt a shiver run over him and tried not to think of ‘Village of the Damned’.

While they had been having lunch clouds had gathered in the sky outside. As Christa and Ymir rushed to reclaim their spot in the garden fat drops of rain fell onto their heads and shoulders. To protect Christa’s crown they retreated. With the garden off-limits the house seemed a little crowded. Ymir ousted Eren and his gang from their mat in the centre of the room and she and Christa began setting up a castle of building blocks. Eren looked decidedly sour about it, but didn’t seem likely to actually do anything. Mikasa was keeping a wary eye on him though. Levi switched on the television, hoping the brightly coloured cartoons would have a suitable hypnotic effect and prevent any punch-ups. He was proved correct soon enough as twelve sets of eyes slowly migrated to the screen and remained there. With the children occupied Levi went to join Erwin in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes. Levi found himself watching the rain, leaning on the kitchen table. Erwin ended up smacking him with the tea towel to get his attention.  
“Hey, I was asking about dinner tonight. What do you want?”  
Levi shrugged.   
“Helpful, Levi.”  
“I live to serve,” Levi muttered, tearing himself away from the view at the window before he became too morose. He heard a few giggles from next door and poked his head in. All was well.

When Marco’s mother arrived Levi passed on what Mrs Kirstein had said. The young woman beamed, looking almost relieved at the prospect.  
“That’s great! I’ll wait for her, see if I can sort something out for this weekend.”  
Marco was pleased to have the chance of an extra hour’s play with Jean. The pair sat in the middle of the room, chattering happily. Erwin watched them with a certain placid interest, smiling at some of the strange mutterings emanating from the two boys. All of a sudden Marco looked up and said that it was his birthday soon. Lucia started up and slapped her forehead, uttering a suppressed curse as if she had just stubbed her toe.  
“You forgot Mummy,” said Marco, smiling serenely and turning back to Jean.  
Lucia started chewing on her thumbnail. “I can’t ask for the day off, not at this short notice. Merda…” she hissed.  
“We could organise the party for you. We could have it here.”  
Levi was not sure what he was hearing. He turned to Erwin. “Wait, what?”  
Lucia was already stretching forward, heaping gratitude upon Erwin’s head. Levi’s protestations were drowned out. Erwin was smiling, nodding. Lucia was asking if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Levi wanted to interject but the opportunity to do so without seeming like an arsehole had already come and gone. He resigned himself instead to the thought, reasoning that it would not be all that different from usual. Except they’d all be high as kites on sugar.  
“When is his birthday?”  
“16th June,” Marco said, before his mother could answer.  
“Next Monday,” Lucia said, frowning slightly.  
“That’s plenty of time. We’ll need to check with the other parents first, but I doubt anyone will object. We’ll get some balloons and streamers and things.”  
“And cake!” shouted Jean.  
“Oh, I can sort that out,” said Lucia.  
Marco looked up at her suddenly with an almost scared expression. He shook his head.  
“Well, yes,” Lucia sighed, “my baking is not one of my proudest skills, but I can tr-“  
“My Mummy can make cakes,” Jean announced.   
There was a knock at the door, and Levi got up to go and let Mrs Kirstein in. He glanced briefly at the clock but forbore commenting on the unusual earliness of her appearance.

As they walked into the kitchen Jean immediately accosted his mother, demanding she make Marco a birthday cake, even bigger and better than the one she had made him for his birthday in April.  
Mrs Kirstein reached down and plucked the child from her leg, asking that he slow down a little. It didn’t take long to acquaint her with the scheme.  
“Oh yes of course. I’d be delighted. I don’t get much cause to bake these days. Rudi said I was making Jean too fat feeding him cakes all the time. It’d be a pleasure, really it would. No trouble at all.” Mrs Kirstein smiled affectionately at Lucia. “And about Saturday? I thought it would be ever so nice for the boys if Marco came home with us for the afternoon, and then you could pick him up in the evening? Would that be alright?”  
Lucia needed no prompting from Marco to agree, perhaps considering the little money she would save from the arrangement.

When the door shut Levi folded his arms and shot Erwin a glare.  
“I hope you realise what you’ve signed both of us up for…you do know what kind of hell this will be?”  
“We can ask Hange and Petra to help.”  
“That sounds like a genius plan right there.”  
“Why thank you,” Erwin said, grinning.  
Levi smacked him.


	10. The Sofa is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it's taken for me to finish this chapter. I've got lots of other stuff to do for university, so finding time for fanfiction is hard. I won't be abandoning this though, even if it does take me ages to write.  
> Enjoy!

Erwin looked up from his desk at the first cry. He frowned and put down his pen. He heard it again. Rising and pushing out his chair he went to the doorway. He paused and listened.  
“Levi, you alright?” He waited, leaning on the banister.  
“Did you know about this?”  
Levi appeared at the foot of the stairs, eyelid twitching, brandishing a green-tinged sofa cushion. That was odd. Their sofa was blue.  
“Hey, Erwin…”  
Erwin saw Mike poke his head around the living room door. He looked sheepish.  
“This is fucking disgusting – just so fucking disgusting I can’t even- I can’t. Oh god…”  
“Sorry Erwin, I think I broke Levi,” Mike said, grinning.  
“Wait, what? What’s going on?” Erwin started down the stairs.  
“Are you seeing this shit? Tell me this gunk is playdough, for god’s sake Erwin.” Levi pushed the cushion he was holding towards Erwin. His hand was shaking.  
“Levi, we don’t have any playdough, you can’t stand the stuff.”  
Levi dropped the cushion with what Erwin would later insist was a squeak and scrambled past him up the stairs.  
“Where are you--?”  
“Somewhere where there’s soap Erwin. Shitshitshit.”  
Mike hid his smile behind his hand. Erwin looked down at the cushion on the floor. He looked back at Mike.  
“Sorry, ok. I smelt something weird, thought you’d rather know than not…”  
Erwin picked up the cushion and threw it at him.  
“Hey, hey, are you trying to give me the plague or something. God only knows what that stuff is, or even was – kinda looks like a face, don’t you think? With, like, the little eyes just here an--”  
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Erwin said, glancing over his shoulder at the stairs.  
“Warned you about a potentially dangerous biological hazard living in your sofa?”  
Erwin grabbed the cushion back and hit Mike with it. A cloud of dust engulfed their heads. Erwin tried not to breathe any of it in.  
“You know it’s going to take him a week at least to calm down now. I have to live with that. Do you remember when we first moved in, this place was a tip, and everyone almost passed out at the housewarming because of the fumes from all the cleaning products he was using…?”  
“Yeah, that was great. Well, I should get going and– Erwin, you’re holding my coat…”  
“You’re helping me with damage control, unless you want a repeat of April Fool’s Day ’05. I lied to you, Hange still has the recipe for those stink bombs.”  
“Oh god…” Mike grimaced and covered his nose with his hand, the nasal memory resurfacing like a slime-covered swamp monster from the depths of his subconscious. “We agreed to never ev-”  
“You have just ruined all my chances of having sex for the next week and a half. The agreement means nothing.”  
“You wouldn’t– Ok, never mind. What did you want me to do?”

Erwin let go of Mike’s coat and pointed towards the living room. “We’re getting bin bags and we are bagging up as much of that shit as we can, then you are going to take the bags and drive them somewhere far, far away from here. Burn them, bury them, toss them in the sea, but get rid of them.”  
“Fine by me, but what are going to do with the rest of the sofa. It’s, what, eight at night. No one’s going to be able to come get rid of it tonight, and maybe not tomorrow even.”  
Erwin rubbed his face with his hand and groaned. “We could cut it up into more manageable pieces I guess…”  
“Erwin, it’s a sofa not a corpse.”  
Erwin peered over his hands. “It will be, if you don’t start helping.” He went into the kitchen to get the bin bags, tearing a few off and handing them to Mike.  
“You scare me sometimes, you know that right? If some journalist comes up to me twenty years from now and is like ‘So, they found twelve bodies under your friend Erwin Ackerman-Smith’s floor. Surprised much?’ I’ll just be like ‘Nah. Not really.’ Just like that.”  
“You think Levi would let me put corpses under the floor? The garden, maybe, but never in the house.” Erwin shoved the first cushion into a bin bag, trying not to look at the underside.  
“So you’d be like this ruthless serial killer but you’d still shit yourself if Levi found corpse goo in the house.”  
“Actually, yes. You’ve know what Levi’s like when he’s pissed off. He broke a man’s nose on our second date.”  
“Ok, so when in twenty years’ time they find the bodies, I’ll be asking myself which ones are Levi’s and which are yours.”  
“Of course, that’s assuming one of them won’t be you which, right now at this moment in time, is a pretty big assumption.”  
“Hey, I’m doing what you asked me to.” Mike tied a knot in one of the bin bags, his nose wrinkled against the odour which, now freed from the confines of sofa, was wafting delicately across the room. “I wonder what it was someone tried to stash under here. Maybe a piece of fruit or something?”  
“I doubt we’ll ever know.”  
“You could scrape some of it off, give it to Hange?”  
“Mike, I do not care that much. I am not curious as to what caused this crap, I just want it out of the house before Levi ends up sleeping on the trampoline because he refuses to be in the same house as this…this abomination. That’s all the cushions, right?”  
Mike held up the bags. “Right. Now what?”  
“Hang on a second, maybe you’re right. Hange…Mike, would Hange have any use for an old sofa sans cushions?”  
Mike shrugged.  
“Well, call and ask.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re giving me your sofa and I don’t have to do anything?”  
“Yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. All you need to do is come pick it up. I’m not carrying this thing all the way to your hovel.”  
“Ok. Ten minutes and I’m there.”  
Erwin handed the phone back to Mike.

Levi was still in the process of disinfecting himself when Erwin came upstairs.  
“The sofa is gone, ok?”  
“I’m aware of that. I heard you and Hange dragging it outside.”  
The sound of running water stopped for a few moments, than started again a second later.  
“Levi, how long are you going to be in there?”  
“As long as it takes!”  
Erwin sighed and muttered about going to bed. He stayed awake for a while, listening to the sound of the shower. The sound made him want to pee, but he didn’t want to disturb whatever quarantine zone Levi had set up in there. He dipped in and out of consciousness, pulled back now and then by Levi hissing like a scalded cat.

“Move it.”  
Something was tugging at the sheets.  
“Erwin, fucking move.”  
Erwin rolled over, almost falling onto the carpet and tried to pull the sheets back. The tugging became more violent.  
“I need to clean the fucking sheets. Now.”  
Erwin raised his head off of the pillows and squinted at the bedside table.  
“It’s 2.15 AM Levi.”  
“I know what time it is! Come on, move.”  
“Levi, we have lots of tiny terrors to watch tomorrow – no, today, even, in, excuse my maths, four hours.”  
Levi’s only response was a growl and a savage tug on the sheets which sent Erwin spiralling onto the carpet. Levi pounced, stripping the bed in seconds and disappearing with the sheets.  
Erwin picked up his phone from the bedside table. He sent Mike a brief message.  
 _Thanks a lot. I hope you die slowly and painfully. :)_

“So,” Erwin said, standing in the pale patch where their sofa had once sat, “looks like we’re going sofa shopping on Saturday afternoon.”  
“Maybe it was Sasha?”  
“I don’t think it was Sasha. I doubt she’d waste food like that.”  
“Well one of the brats is responsible – I just don’t know which yet. What about Eren? Could have been him…”  
Erwin put his palm on Levi’s head. “Just let it go Levi,” he said, ignoring the singing that started up around the room as the words left his mouth. Mikasa and Armin stood up and began strutting moodily across the mat. Levi stared at the warbling infants, puzzled.  
“It’s from that one animated film, the one with all the snow,” Erwin muttered, shrugging when Levi looked at him quizzically.  
Mikasa and Armin sat down giggling, while Jean looked somewhat embarrassed. Marco was looking at him with a mystified expression.  
“Anyway, we need to get a new sofa soon, standing here like this is ridiculous.”  
Levi opened his mouth to reply.  
There was a scandalised shriek from the beanbag.  
“Oh please god, don’t let it be pee.”  
“Marco hasn’t seen 'Frozen'!” cried Jean. He made it sound as if Marco had some sort of terminal illness he hadn’t told him about. Marco looked worriedly around him at the faces which had all turned to look at him. He tried to hide behind Jean, clinging to his arm.  
“Guys, leave Marco alone,” said Erwin.  
“But he has to see it! It’s amazing!” squealed Sasha, drawing the vowels in the final word to profoundly irritating lengths. Mikasa and Annie nodded.  
“Can we watch it?”  
“Yeah, can we?”  
“Can we, can we, can we?”  
“Please, please, pretty please.”  
“No,” said Levi, who doubted that kids their age could actually tell one animated film from another let alone know a good one when they saw it.  
“But I said please, so you have to!”  
“No I don’t. Besides, we don’t have it.”  
“Awwwwwww.”  
Erwin coughed.  
Levi scowled. “Don’t tell me…”  
“Uh, Hange and Mike have a copy at their house. You know how Moblit works at that DVD place? He got a bunch of random films when they had a sale, employee discount or something. Besides, Hange owes me for the sofa…”  
Levi winced. “Oh great…”

Ymir carved out a space for herself and Christa, with the liberal aid of her elbows.  
“Can’t see…” Sasha whined.  
Ymir ignored her, planting Christa in front. She wrapped her arms around the blonde girl’s middle, her chin resting on her head.  
“Er, Bertoldt, you should probably sit at the back. Otherwise other children can’t see.”  
“Eren you’re leaning on my hair.”  
“Quit hogging all the space Jean.”  
“Ow, Reiner just stood on my leg!”  
“Don’t sit on me idiot.”  
Levi looked back at Erwin with a withering expression. “Well this is going well.”  
“No one’s punched anyone yet—”  
“Ah, don’t speak too soon.”  
“Ok, no shoving, pinching, punching or being otherwise irritating to those around you or you will not get to watch the film. Understood?”  
A dozen heads bobbed in unison.  
“Ok, those in front lie down, like Eren, Mikasa and Armin, so the others can see. Ymir, that means you too.”  
“Can’t they just move either side of me? Then they can see.”  
Before Erwin could say anything the children sitting behind Ymir had done as she suggested, except for Bertoldt, who had no need to move. Marco and Jean lay on their bellies on her left, with Connie and Sasha behind them. Annie and Reiner sat either side of him. Eren, Armin and Mikasa sat on Ymir’s right. Mikasa had tugged her hair free from under Eren’s arm and was staring peevishly at him.  
“Mikasa, do you want me to tie your hair back so that idiot doesn’t lean on it again?” Levi asked.  
“He’s not an idiot,” Mikasa said, puffing out her chest. “Yes, please.”  
Levi got a hair-tie from the odds and ends drawer in the kitchen and tied Mikasa’s hair into a messy ponytail. “There, now can we get this over with. If I have to watch that menu reel one more time I’m going to break something…”  
Erwin found the remote and pressed play.

Levi perched on the kitchen table.  
“You had any thoughts ‘bout this party thing?” he muttered.  
Erwin shrugged. “Well we don’t have to do much. Get some balloons, streamers, work out some games, maybe hire a bouncy castle—”  
“We already have a trampoline…”  
“—could get a magician or something?”  
“Magician? Is that the sort of thing you have at kid’s parties?”  
Erwin looked at Levi. “You didn’t get many birthday parties as a kid, did you?”  
“Nope. My da— ack, don’t randomly hug me like that without warning. You nearly snapped my fucking ribs.”  
“Sorry, you just looked all forlorn and unloved.”  
“Don’t be such a soppy shit, it doesn’t suit you,” Levi muttered, a smile just about on his lips. “Seriously though, we need to start sorting stuff out. We can’t screw this up. This isn’t university or a job, this is a childhood here – we screw up and we could end up scarring a kid for life. We could give him, I dunno, commitment issues, or a morbid fear of balloons. I don’t know about you but I’d rather not be that guy.”  
From the living room came a hoard of horrified gasps.  
“Nooo. He can’t do that!”  
“Shut up, you’ve seen it already. Be quiet.”  
“She should- should hit him, right on the nose. I’d do that.”  
“She’s not gonna die is she?”  
“Ugh, it’s still not finished,” Levi muttered. “I’m going to have those shitty songs stuck in my head for weeks.”  
“I don’t think it’s too bad actually.”  
Levi shot him a glare.  
Erwin shrugged. “What? I watched it while heavily intoxicated with Hange and the others a while back.”  
“I don’t remember that…”  
“You and Hange had had one of your spats so you weren’t speaking to each other.”  
“Shit, that really was ages ago. Wait, you said you were going to the library.”  
“I said I might be going to the library. I never said I actually was going. We should start making lunch. They’ll be done soon.”  
Erwin opened the utensil drawer, only to find it empty. Levi pointed to the dishwasher.  
“I washed them all last night.”  
“Get some sleep tonight.”  
Levi grunted, staring at the floor intently. Erwin had the suspicion he was intending to clean it, along with every other surface in the house.  
“I will tie you down to the bed if I have to, don’t think I won’t.”  
“Bet you’d have fun with that…”  
“That’s beside the point. Will you just please forget about the…whatever it was under the sofa, for me?”  
Levi sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “You assume I can just forget about it…” He shuddered. “I’ll try. I hope Hange found a decent use for it…”

“H-hange! Hey, Hange! Stop laughing, stop laughing a second – can you hear that? It sounds – sounds like sirens, I think the police or maybe the fire—”  
“Hahaha, burn you bastard, burn! Ha, look at that smoke. It’s fucking green!”  
“Uh, Hange, maybe we should move away from the—”  
“What do you think would happen if we breathed in that stuff Moblit? You think maybe we’d get, like, superpowers, or we’d become like mutants or—”  
“Or we’d die! Come on Hange.”  
“Nah, they’re ages away yet. Lemme get a lungful of this. Smells like socks…”  
“No one’s socks smell like that. We have to go, we can’t get arrested again. What the fuck are you doing now? Oh yeah, that seems sensible…just pour on more petrol, not like we need our eyebrows or anything. What the fuck am I doing out here…in a fucking field, with you and a burning sofa which is possibly host to an unknown life form. You know Hange, when I was younger this was not how I envisioned my life turning out…and you’re not listening. Ok, those sirens are getting really kinda close.”  
“Oohkay, I’m gonna step away from the smoke now. Mission accomplished. Quick, to the Batmobile! Hehe.”  
“Shut up and run!”


End file.
